


(You're my missing) Puzzle Piece

by nik_nimmi



Series: I found a home (in you) [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Single Parent AU, dreamies except jaemin are kids, renjun is Kuns son, some luwoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nik_nimmi/pseuds/nik_nimmi
Summary: Kun is a single parent barely coping from the effects of his divorce and the challenges of raising a kid all by himself. To make matters worse, his busy schedule barely leaves any room for him to actually spend anytime quality time with his son. As Renjun starts to act out at kindergarten and Kun reaches his breaking point, Sicheng may have just the solution.Insert Ten.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Sejeong
Series: I found a home (in you) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017388
Comments: 139
Kudos: 403





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this was born from a fusion of nct quak's video of nct being kids and the dreamies in that sbs video@-@

Kun's heart pounded in his chest.

He had sixteen missed calls from his son's school, _sixteen_. And no matter how much he tried to call back, the teacher just would _not_ pick up. 

He feels the guilt at abandoning Yukhei to fend for himself in the meeting ebb away, the harrowing anxiety of what could have happened to his son overtaking his priorities. He slams on the accelerator, uncaring as he breaks the speed limit here and there. There's genuine sweat starting to trickle down his forehead, and his knuckles have never looked more stark against the dark steering wheel.

He skids to a stop in front of the school gates, tumbling out as he locks his car and rushes in. He knows he probably looks insane, hair askew from how much his fingers had assaulted it, suit jacket haphazardly thrown on.

But Kun can't focus on any of those things as he walks into the doors of the kindergarten, eyes immediateky scanning for someone familiar so he can find his son faster.

"Mr...? Are you ok?" 

He's pretty sure he heard his neck crack at how fast he whips his head back, looking at the concerned receptionist.

"Junnie-Renjun, my son, where is he?"

Xiaojun nods in immediate understanding, getting up and leading him down the hallway. "I'm so sorry for not informing you sooner," he starts, "I'm new here so I don't know any of the parents, yet. Renjun just got in a fight during lunch, it's nothing too serious."

_I doubt it_ , he thinks. Jaemin would never call him before departure time if it wasn't serious.

"He's right in there, I think his teacher's inside too. Last bed on the right."

Kun nods at him in thanks and makes his way in, the colourful walls a contrast to the storm brewing inside his mind and heart. He hears Jaemin before he sees him, that sickly sweet voice the young teacher used whenever he was with kids echoing in the small clinic.

"Jaemin?" He calls out, and moves towards end of the room.

And _god_ , Kun's never been more relieved in his life.

Renjun is fast asleep on the bed, unharmed except for the small band-aid on his forehead. Jaemin looks at him with a start, expression morphing into guilt and realization immediately.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Mr. Qian, you must've gotten my calls, I-", he takes out his phones, unlocking it before his face crumbles even more, "Oh geez, I kept it on silent because it was so hectic, I'm so sorry-"

"-Its fine," he cuts him off. And it truly is, even if Kun will have to suffer from Yukhei's wrath later. He sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing down his son's hair. He looks so peaceful, Kun almost doesn't want him to wake up, even if the desire to see him smiling to reassure himself is incessant.

"What happened? You never call for some small scratches."

Jaemin, who had been gazing just as softly at Renjun, jolts with realization.

"Oh, yeah. You know Lee Donghyuck, right?" Kun nods, Renjun telling him about the new boy in his class enough times for it to stick.

"Well, uh, the two got into a fight during break. The teachers thought it was the usual scuffle so no one really took it too seriously, but then Renjun threw a rock at Donghyuck."

Kun was so shocked at the news his fingers stilled their movements. "Is he okay?" He asked, panicked at the safety for the other boy.

Jaemin bit his lip.

Kun's blood ran cold. 

"Jaemin, _where_ is Donghyuck?" He asked, noticing the lack of any other student in the clinic.

"He's at the hospital. It was a little too serious to be handled here, and Donghyuck had a mini-panic attack of sorts. His dad's out of the country for the weekend, so I think the fear of being alone made him react more violently than he normally would."

Guilt rains down like a ton of bricks. Kun can't even _begin_ to comprehend how scared the boy must've been. He'll admit, he wasn't the most keen on Donghyuck considering how Renjun would come crying about the boy's antics every other day, but _goodness_. 

"I-is there anything I can do? To help? I'll pay the hospital fees, even, and any other costs that come-" he's starting to ramble, he knows it, and so does Jaemin.

I'll give you his dad's number," he cuts him off slowly. Kun merely nods, unable to form a proper response from all the stress the past few hours have unloaded on him.

He just hopes Donghyuck gets better soon, and his father doesn't threaten to sue his son the moment he comes back.

*

  
"God, you had a _day_ , didn't you."

Sicheng's voice is even, even though Kun can tell he's joking. His best friend pours him some wine, sliding over the glass. Sicheng somehow always managed to sound calm, and its a trait that Kun envies for he has the tendency to slip his emotions into his words more than he'd like.

After talking with Jaemin for a while, he'd taken Renjun home. His son had caused quite a scene when he'd finally woken up in the evening, crying for Donghyuck and apologising frantically. It took him a good hour or so to finally calm down. Kun had tried to speak to him of what exactly happened, and he doesn't think his heart can hurt even more than it already does.

Renjun was asleep in his bedroom tonight, instead of the boy's own. Kun had called Sicheng straight away, sobbing as he tried to explain incoherently the events of the day. He was just so _exhausted_ , a bone-deep tiredness settling in by the time his best friend arrived with a bottle of wine and apple juice.

"I'm not giving him enough time, Sicheng, _I_ _don't know what to do._ "

His friend hummed. 

Apparently, the only reason the two fought was because one of Renjun's friends, Jeno, was starting to become closer to Donghyuck. It seems such a small thing, such a small mistake of emotions that led to the current situation, but he knew it wasn't the same for the kids. Jaemin had quietly told him that Renjun had problems with sharing his things, or even his friends. He resorted to violence whenever things didn't go his way, and if he'd feel ignored.

And at first, Kun didn't think it was a big deal. All kids, especially boys from what he's heard, tended to be more aggressive. Wasn't it only natural for him to express his emotions that way?

"Well, to some degree, yes. But I don't think that's exactly Renjun's problem," Jaemin had told him. "He's _lonely_ , Kun. He's afraid of losing his things or friends, because he thinks they'll leave him. Instead of befriending Donghyuck like most kids, Renjun opposes him instead. He fears he'll lose Jeno, instead of thinking he'll gain another friend."

"Ofcourse, maybe it's just a small phase that he'll grow out of. Jealousy is only natural, especially at this age, but just in case, keep an eye on him."

The conversation had left him drained. And as much as Kun wants to believe Jaemin's words, he knows it might not be a phase. He knows the only reason the teacher brought it up is the same one Kun's thinking of.

Sicheng flicks his head.

"Stop worrying, I can see your hair graying already."

Kun can only give him a frown in response. His friend sighs before settling next to him on the sofa, his own glass filled with juice instead of wine. ("Safe driving," he'd said) but Kun knew it was so atleast one of them could keep their head straight tonight.

"Its taking a toll on you." Sicheng stated. And it was true. Between constantly working overtime, squeezing time in between for Renjun's studies and caring for his son, Kun was starting to wear himself down thin.

"I don't know what to do, I can't reduce my hours or else I won't be able to meet any of the bills in time. Whenever I do make enough time for him, it's always late into the night. He's _so_ _small_ , Sicheng, it breaks my heart to see him asleep in the living room waiting for me."

Something inside of him begins to crack, and before he knows it he's crying once again. The tears are relentless, but he makes sure to keep his volume on the low so he doesn't alert Renjun. He feels arms surround him, fingers running through his hair. They don't exchange any words, but his presence is enough to comfort him, to catch him as he breaks apart.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself. You can't go any on any longer like this."

The words are something the other has told him time and time again, but this is the first time Kun _truly_ believes them.

"Where do I even _start_?" He asks wetly, tears and snot staining Sicheng's shirt. His friend truly was one in a million.

"I know a guy. Maybe he'll be able to help."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some super mild swearing ahead (like one curse word) so be careful of that I guess

Everything was _fine_.

Kun was sure if he said the phrase to himself enough times it would turn true. He sat in his kitchen, hands clasped together as he contemplated the best course of action. His head was killing him, and as much as it pained him to admit, he truly was getting old. Renjun had climbed over him, and had started scratching his hand in his own weird attempt to wake him up. After giving the boy his much demanded breakfast, he'd made it a point to promptly ignore the sticky note on which Sicheng had scribbled his friend's name and number before leaving the night before.

Renjun currently sat in the living room, building an estranged version of the Eiffel tower with his legos. It was the effort that counted, and Kun smiled as he watched his son fumble over the pieces as he glared at the box. Kun could expect atleast an hour or so at most of peace before the younger lost interest and wanted to turn the house into his own makeshift drawingbook again. No matter how many books or colours he bought, the boy would strangely make it a point to scribble his crayons on the walls.

The sound of his phone jolted him back to the situation at hand, and he barely had anytime to mentally prepare himself before he read the dreaded caller ID.

Lee Taeyong.

_May God help him._

" _Hello? I received a call from this number?"_

"Yes, um, hello. This is Qian Kun, Renjun's father."

" _Oh, uh. Do-How can I...help you?"_

Before calling Donghyuck's father, Kun had imagined a million scenarios all throughout breakfast and his morning walk with Renjun on how the conversation would go. His anxiety had been skyrocketing to the point that Renjun even offered him his favourite moomin plushie as comfort, and _that_ was saying a lot. His son would rather tear off someone's limbs before letting them anywhere near his prized possession.

Much to his chagrin (or relief?), Taeyong sounded confused. Urgent, even. 

"No, no. I just wanted to apologise, on my son's behalf. His behaviour was completely out of line. I would gladly help pay for Donghyuck's hospital bil-"

_"-no need!"_ Taeyong startled, _"truly, please. Thank you for offering, but I have it covered. As for the apology, its fine. They're kids, they're going to play and fight and get hurt, so don't be too hard on him."_

Kun was...surprised to say the least.

"I-well, umm, I'll leave you to it then? I hope he recovers as soon as possible," he wanted to fling himself into oblivion from how awkward he sounded, " and if there's anything, you'll, umm, need help with, please feel free to call."

_"Thank you. Then that'll be-"_ Taeyong broke off, seemingly interrupted by something. There was sound of something rustling, before Donghyuck's unmistakable sleepy voice came through the other end. 

_He's back_ , Kun thought.

_"Sorry for that. Thank you for your concern, have a nice day Kun-ssi."_ Before he could reply, the phone call ended. 

Well, he guessed that was the end of that.

However, his relief was short-lived as he chanced a glance on the sticky note Sicheng had left him last night. On one hand, there was an itch to his fingers, his body _begging_ him to just gather the courage and try. To shove off another burden that weighed on his shoulders.

On the _other_ hand-

"Papa, when will we _leave_?"

Renjun looked at him with imploring eyes.

Kun, being the adult he is, decided to give the predicament his attention later. He couldn't leave his son waiting, now, could he?

So with the most convincing smile he could muster (wasn't too hard considering Renjun was nothing if not a ball of sunshine) picked his boy up.

"How about now?"

*

This was a _terrible_ idea.

He internally cursed himself for being so careless. The walk to the park had been great, wonderful even. Renjun kept on asking him a million questions at the speed of light, pointing at everything and anything as they ventured through the new section they'd opened a couple days ago. Kun had attempted to answer as many as he could, although he didn't think the kid cared much for his output.

"Papa why is the sun so bright?"

"Because its summer-"

"No, its because _I'm_ here, papa. Don't be boring."

Did Kun care? No. Was his pride slightly hurt? Maybe.

Either way, the entire trip seemed peaceful enough until Renjun started asking about the butterflies.

Those. Godforsaken. Butterflies.

Kun had by that time taken a seat on one of the benches, already tired after an entire hour of walking and running. The pamphlet they got when they first entered captured his interest, one eye paying attention to his son as he rambled about flowers and toads. There was a sudden lull in conversation, until he realised his son had merely been enraptured by the sight of a cyan butterfly.

"Hey, jun-bug," he whispered, "try to stay still. Maybe she'll come say hello."

Renjun immediately stiffened, even going as far as holding his breath. They both watched, as the creature fluttered her wings before softly landing on his nose. Renjun's eyes were as wide as saucers, and he could tell his son was barely containing his excitement. Kun mimed at his son to be still, taking out his phone and switching to the camera.

With a satisfying click echoing in the air, the butterfly took off once again, leaving the duo to stare at her in awe. Kun opened the picture as a smile bloomed on his face, his son's adorable expression squeezing his heart. He turned to Renjun, eager to show him-

Except, Renjun wasn't there.

Heart racing, Kun stood up, glancing around. He caught sight of the boy running behind the butterfly just behind him.

"Junnie! Renjun! Baby, _come back!_ " 

As expected, his shouts were futile against his son's evident excitement. He scrambled after him, cursing his choice of footwear as he nearly slipped while running past the fountain. The small distraction served enough time for his son to turn a corner, leaving Kun to sprint behind him.

Logically, he knows that he should be able to catch up with his son. But God, five year old were _fast_.

He turns the corner to see Renjun near one of the lamp-posts, sitting on the ground as he brought his knees closer to him. As he slowed to a walk, he could see his son's shoulders starting to shake, and prayed to every deity in the universe that it wasn't what we thought it was.

The universe, however, seems to despise him.

Because as Kun nears the boy, he can see the dreaded gash on the boy's knee. Renjun looks up at the sound of his footsteps, and his heart shatters as the boy's tears start racing down his reddened cheeks in quick succession.

"Papa," he cries out, and Kun scoops him into his arms.

"Oh sweetie, don't cry. Look, its not even that bad." And truly, it wasn't. On closer observation the wound wasn't as serious as he'd initially thought, and he knows the only reason Renjun's crying was because of fear from the sight of blood.

But Renjun was still a kid, and an extremely stubborn one too. He refused to look as Kun took him near a cooler and washed it off, continuing to cry as he wrapped one of his handkerchiefs around his knee. No matter what he said or did, it seemed Renjun was adamant on ignoring him. Maybe it was because of the sudden fear that had gripped him in the moment, or maybe it was because the _stupid_ butterfly had flown away, but to the boy it seemed to be the most miserable thing that could ever happened.

_Well, that concluded their trip to the park_ , he thought defeatedly. 

Renjun was still weeping, but he seemed to be getting more tired. The boy nestled into the crook of his neck, and Kun picked up the rest of their belongings before heading to the exit. The sky was starting to fade away as well, and he wondered just how long they'd been outside.

Surely, it wasn't _that_ late already?

His confusion was soon rewarded with an answer as he stepped out of the park, a drop of water immediately hitting his face.

_Fuck no._

But the universe had other plans. Plans he was sure were made to torture his soul and steal away his sanity. Because the drops kept coming, and his feet quickened their pace. The drops kept coming, and before he knew it, he was hiding under a bus stop from the pouring rain.

He glanced at Renjun from the glass's reflection, only to find the boy already fast asleep. Kun had briefly considered maybe covering his son with his jacket and _booking_ it to their apartment considering it wasn't that far, but one glance at that peaceful face and he'd decided against it. He couldn't risk Renjun getting a cold, whether it was from him or the boy being exposed to the chilly downpour.

"Excuse me?"

A soft voice interrupted his barrage of thoughts. He turned around, met with the sight of a man a few inches shorter than him. He had a hesitant smile in place, focus more on Renjun than it was on him. His eyes were cat-like, silver lining the shell of his ear. Raven hair stood stark against his skin and Kun had never seen a man more prettier than the one in front of him.

"...yes?" He croaked out, realising how creepy his stare could come off as.

The man looked at him, hesitant before he brought forth an umbrella.

"Umm, I was just wondering if you'd want to maybe...use it? The next bus isn't coming anytime soon, and its just going to get worse out here. It'll be better if you took a train instead, since he's already asleep."

The man gestured towards Renjun. Kun felt a strange tug in his chest.

"What about you?" He asked, and the man shrugged.

"My friend gets off work soon so he can just pick me up. You don't have to worry about me, just take it. Your brother looks like he's cold."

It's silent for a few heavy seconds.

"My son," Kun finally says. "He's my son." 

He watches carefully as the man's expression shifts from confusion to realisation. "I'm so sorry," he starts, guilt making home on his face. "I just assumed-its nothing, umm, so please take this then. Hurry home, the storm's coming soon."

And Kun wants to reject. He truly does. He feels waves of guilt wash over him as he looks at the man, a _much_ smaller stature than him and in just a mildly wet shirt and shorts. There's a glow about him, something akin to innocence or kindness he's not sure, but it makes him so much more harder to take the stupid umbrella from.

But the man's right. Renjun's not wearing enough to save him from the weather, and he knows his jacket can provide only so much warmth. He wishes he didn't, but he accepts the offer with a soft 'thank you', watching in awe as the man immediately beams.

Before Kun can take his leave, he asks the man for his name and number so he can return it back, but he merely waves him off.

"Atleast give me your name," he asks, determined to remember the kindness of the stranger.

"You can call me Ten," he says, eyes glinting, "now go on before you start staring at me again."

And if Kun's face burns the entire way back, no one has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STREAM PUNCH BY NCT127
> 
> Finally met Ten!!! There's more of him coming up from now so buckle up.
> 
> The chapters might be slow, as I tend to rewrite and delete my writings a lot before posting them, but i hope this update was ok.
> 
> Also, I'd initially planned for six chapters, but i think it might exceed that so I guess only time and my inspiration will tell.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and the lovely comments last time! They give me motivation to continue writing ♡♡♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream punch :D
> 
> I've kinda hinted at what exactly happened with Kun and why he's a single father. I might dive deeper into the reason in the upcoming chapters, as well as what Donghyuck did that annoyed Renjun so much >:(

_Please_ , he begged to heavens above, _don't pick up, don't pick up, don't-_

_"Hello?"_

The voice on the other end of the phone is bright, familiar in the way that Kun can't put a name on it. 

"Is this Li Yongqin? This is Qian Kun, a friend of mine gave me your number."

" _Kun...? I'm sorry, I'm not sure I-oh! Oh, are you Renjun's father? The single dad with graying hair?"_

He takes back every good thing he's said about his best friend, Sicheng can go _rot_.

"I-yes, yes unfortunately that is me. But I do not have any graying hairs, or any other insult Sicheng might've told you."

The man giggles on other side at his grave tone. Kun feels a smile of his own breaking out on his face.

The conversation goes much better than expected, words easily exchanged and plans made. Yongqin seems much more decisive than he initially thought, and he truly hoped he would be of some help.

Stretching his arms out, he made his way to the kitchen. Cold tiles sent shivers up his spine, and he reveled in the quietness of the house, the rain's pitter patter against windows the only sound.

True to Ten's words, the storm had become much worse after they'd arrived. He felt a stab of guilt in his chest, hope the man got home safely the only thing easing it. Renjun had been extremely confused why they had a cat-patterned umbrella when they'd arrived, but his drooping eyelids were victorious against his on coming barrage of questions.

After cleaning up, he'd tucked the younger in his room, knowing bedtime was going to be absolute _hell_ tonight.

Rifling through his playlists, he finally landed on a song to soothe the sombre mood of the silence. After getting everything he needed, Kun started preparing dinner. He was tempted to order something instead, but soon shot down the idea after realising he'd rather not eat all by himself.

He worked quietly. Fingers slowly kneading the dough, hands flinging spices in the pot. It was therapeutic, in a way, and always managed to calm down. A flash of a soft gaze and gentle smile came to mind, and Kun sliced the leeks on his cutting board a bit more harshly than he usually would.

He doesn't want to dvelve on the memories of the past, on the what ifs, on the happiness he felt then. He knows he'll start spiraling, to the bitter endings, the rust on a shining piece of jewellery becoming more and more apparent the longer he continued to observe. He tried to focus on the music instead, tried to focus on the lyrics, the melody as it clashed and changed effortlessly as the song went on. The feeling of loneliness was an unavoidable comrade in the empty kitchen, and he'd come to accept it and let it wash over him instead of fighting back. He started hum along, the aroma of the broth giving him a gentle warmth.

Soon, Kun started wiping clean the counters and piling up the dishes to wash. He found himself reminded of the rollercoaster that was their morning as the sight of Renjun's bright blue water bottle greeted him. A chuckle escaped him, soon followed with a fondness at the memory. It seemed as if so much time had elapsed since the morning, from talking to Taeyong to running away from the rain.

And meeting Ten.

He knows he shouldn't, but he tries to keep the image of him in his mind. They met so briefly, yet he'd somehow manage to cage his attention _and_ fluster him in one encounter. Indulging himself in a little bit of imagination, he finished up.

There was nothing more to think about. Ten was a coincidence, a nicely timed one, and would be forgotten soon enough like so many others he'd met.

  
*

Oh boy, was he _wrong_.

"I can't believe this, this is like, a _movie_ or something. Absolutely _no freaking way_."

Kun had to agree.

A week later, he sits across Ten, the mysterious ' _Li Yongqin'_ he'd been talking things over with the entire week. They had decided to meet at a café nearby Renjun's kindergarten, so afterwards he could go and pick his son up once his classes were over.

The surprise was evident on both their faces, and maybe too much so considering one of the baristas had to come and politely ask them to stop hogging the line and either pick a seat or leave.

Kun laughed a little at the situation, the tension dissipating as they grabbed a table at the back near one of the windows. 

"Well," Ten started, "I guess proper introductions are long overdue?" 

Kun agreed, sipping his coffee as he tried not to focus too much on the man in front of him. On the outside, Kun maybe smiling, laughing even, but on the inside, he was _crying_.

_Who_ wears all black with a leather jacket and gold-rimmed glasses in the middle of summer? Apparently Ten, that's who.

"My Chinese name's actually Yongqin, but I'm originally from Thailand. I'm gonna spare you the trouble of butchering my real name, so you can just call me Ten."

He stretched his hand out, pearly teeth blinding him with the force of their grin. Kun slides forward his own hand, and tries to ignore how his manages to swallow Ten's slimmer one.

His fears of the conversation turning awkward were proven wrong, as after a small back and forth Ten brought up the reason they were here in the first place. They discuss when to start, the timings, what preferences his son has and what should be kept in mind all the while Ten notes it down on his phone.

"Honestly, from what I've heard Renjun doesn't seem like a... _rowdy_ kid? On the contrary, Sicheng won't shut up about how much of an angel he is, so I honestly don't think there's much I'll need to be worrying about."

"Junnie tends to be a little more shyer to strangers," Kun explains,"so it might take some time for him to actually open up. I would've taken care of him myself, but the office hours are just _so_ long, I hate leaving him alone. I don't want him to feel neglected."

And the small ache in his heart is back again. It's a little bit of guilt, a little bit of fear and a little bit of helplessness. His boy deserves the world and _more_ , deseves to be coddled and loved and taken care of, yet all Kun has to offer him is a broken marriage and barely any attention. 

"Hey."

Kun looks up, meeting Ten's gaze.

The mischievous glint that resided in them for so long is replaced by something more delicate, something more _kinder_. His voice is commanding, yet equally tender as he speaks.

"Don't think too much. It's really commendable you're managing to raise a child all by yourself. I understand it's hard, but cut yourself some slack. You care so much about him, or else you wouldn't have reached out to me in the first place."

Ten's voice is more firm as he continues. "You're bound to make mistakes, but you're trying to make up for them. I've met a lot of kids, and I've met a lot of parents. I can say this with certainty, _none_ of them are perfect. And they don't need to be. They try and so do you, and that's all that matters, you know."

"You're human too, Kun, i hope you remember that."

Kun's...slightly _stunned_ at the words. They're harsh in the way they cut into his conciousness, reverberating and pushing the onslaught of negativity in his mind. The guilt is still there, but it's a little duller, a little less pronounced. He knows the anxiousness of never being enough for Renjun will catch up again later, but for now, there is nothing but a soothing silence echoing in his mind.

"Th-Thank you," he croaks out.

Ten's smile is warm, as he mutters back a small 'any time'.

*

"Papa?"

He hums. Renjun had been oddly quiet the entire ride.

"Hyuckie came to school today."

_Oh_.

His son had for some reason refused to talk about the matter every chance Kun tried to bring it up. He could barely manage to get a few mumbled responses before Renjun completely shut off. Jaemin had told him to just give the boy time, but the incessant urge to know had continued to crawl over his skin the entire week.

He was more than a little surprised, especially since he brought it up himself.

"Is he okay now?"

Renjun gave a sound of affirmation.

"I-I told him I was sorry," he speaks up suddenly. Kun remains quiet. He can see his son fidget with a keychain a few younger kids had given him in the rear-view mirror.

"And then-and then Hyuckie started _crying_. So-so I tried to give him my choco milk but he just _cried_ and Jeno came and he asked what's wrong and Hyuckie stopped crying and said he was sorry and then _I_ was crying and then Nana came and said to tell him. But-but I didn't know, but then Jeno said it's okay and Hyuckie is okay now."

_That...was a lot_.

He still doesn't understand why any of it happened, but he guesses it's good that Donghyuck was fine. He's not really sure.

"So...are you and Hyuckie friends?"

Renjun nods enthusiastically.

"We're bestest friends! Jeno is a bestest friend too!"

"'Our', sweetie. 'Jeno is our _best_ friend'."

"No papa, Jeno is our _bestest_ friend!"

Kun chuckled at his son's excitement. He guesses that he doesn't need to worry about that too much anymore.

However there was still something else he needed to tackle...

"Junnie, do you want to meet Papa's new friend?"

*

He didn't know what to expect, but a very excited Renjun who kept screaming and talking about meeting Ten was not it _at all._

The boy was brimming with so much energy he had to physically restrain the ball of flailing limbs that was his son to stop him bouncing off walls.

After an hour of much bribery, pleading and cuddles later, Renjun had finally fallen asleep.

Just when thought he'd finally get some time to wind down and enjoy a movie or two, a caller ID flashes on his phone.

_Lee Taeyong._

Intrigued, he picks up the phone. 

" _Uh hello,this is Kun-ssi, right?"_

"Yes," he answers, feeling a little awkward, "Donghyuck is doing fine?"

" _Oh, yeah, actually he's more than fi-"_ somwhere is the background there's a scream, a crash and a hurried ' _we're okay_ ' before Taeyong responds again.

" _Sorry for that. They're excited there's no school tomorrow."_

"They're?"

" _Yeah_ ," Taeyong says. A beat later, realisation dawns on him. " _They're as in Donghyuck and my eldest Mark, he's started elementary a while back so you don't see him at the kindergarten."_

"Oh! I didn't know you had another son. Junnie never said anything either."

" _About Renjun,"_ Kun felt his stomach drop. He was _so_ getting sued, Kun could feel the bad luck from _miles_ away. Or maybe worse, he was going to have his son _expelled_. The mere prospect was so horrifying tha-

" _Can-if it wouldn't be too much-can he come for a sleepover? Or a playdate? Tomorrow? Donghyuck won't stop talking about how much he wants to play with them. Jeno's coming too."_

Kun needed to stop his thoughts running wild.

Taeyong's voice was so nervous, Kun felt a little bad for stalling before he answered. He went over the idea, and didn't really see anything wrong. It would be the first time he'd be letting his son go to someone's house that wasn't Sicheng's, but if Mr. Overprotective Doyoung had agreed to let Jeno go, maybe it was fine?

_"I understand if you're worried,"_ Taeyong started once the silence stretched too long, " _I'll update you every hour of you want, or you could call and check up on him-"_

"No, no. It's fine. It's just his first time, so I'm worried he'll be nervous. It's a great idea, actually."

_"Oh, I'll message you the address then? Please let me know of there's any allergies he has, or anything else I need to know."_

They talk a little while more, and it's slighly comical how often Taeyong's attention keeps slipping to what his kids are doing. 

Strangely, he feels a lot lighter than he has in _months_ when goes to bed that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten in all black is *chef's kiss*
> 
> Also i didn't wanna go in too much for the kids' recollection coz I remembered my kindergarten years and honestly kids give zero fuxks and patch up pretty fast. 
> 
> Random but once a boy in my class bit my shoulder and I bit his finger in retaliation. Fun times :D
> 
> We're going to see more of Taeyong and Kun's friendship upcoming chapters, ALSO TEN WILL FINALLY MEET RENJUN! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!♡♡♡♡ \\(●□●)/♡♡♡♡


	4. In the heart of rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more exposition in this chapter. Mild references to separation anxiety (very very mild).

"We're here, sweetie."

Renjun lets out an excited squeal from his place in the backseat. The familiar fondness grapples his heart and tugs all negativity away. If his son was so happy at the prospect of a sleepover, you bet he's going to endure anything that'll make it happen.

Turning the car off and walking hand in hand with Renjun, he approaches the door leading to the inside from the parking lot. The building was grander than he'd expected, a chic and classy feel to it as marble tiles and gorgeous paintings welcomed them in the hallway.

Renjun seemed oddly quiet, but looking over Kun saw his son equally enraptured with the interior as he was. Checking his phone for the details one last time, they made their way into the elevators, a jazzy tune filling the air. Renjun seemed to huddle closer to him as the floors went by, and Kun had an inkling to what was going on.

"Baby?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to be okay?"

Renjun was silent. Kun sighed, picking him up. The boy was gnawing his lips, a small blush from the wind sitting atop his nose. He was adamant on picking his own outfit today ("I need to impes Hyuck and Jeno!" "Its ' _impress_ ', sweetie"), clad in the cutest baby blue suspenders and a rainbow coloured t- shirt. Renjun had also worn his favourite white shoes with rainbow socks, and maybe Kun had gotten them a few minutes late because he was too busy clicking pictures of his son.

_Maybe_.

Once they reached the floor, he walked out, Renjun's small and soft fingers playing with his collar. The boy hadn't responded yet, and Kun was worried if he'd truly changed his mind.

"Junnie-"

"-papa, are you sad?"

Kun felt his heart squeeze.

Renjun looked so scared, so timid, his eyes harboring so much innocence he was afraid he'd crack then and there.

"No, baby. Why do you think that?"

"'Coz you'll be alone. And I'll go play with Hyuckie and Jeno."

_God_ , Kun thought, _what did he do to derserve his little angel?_

"No! I'll be fine! I'll-uh," Kun scrambled for something to say, "I'll-uh, go meet my friend! Yeah."

Renjun stared at him.

Kun smiled awkwardly.

"Papa, you don't have friends."

_Ouch_.

"No, sweetie, really. Umm-remember that friend I told you about yesterday? Him, I'm going to meet him."

Before Renjun could say anything else, the door in front of them snapped open capturing both their attention. A haggard-looking Doyoung smiled sheepishly at him, and only then did he notice the human marshmallow that was Jeno beaming down below.

"Mr. Kun! See, appa, told ya' so!"

Renjun wriggled in his grasp at the sight of his friend, and Kun had no choice but to let him free. It was like releasing a trapped animal in the wild, the way Renjun and Jeno immediately started running around each other and giggling like they were high off of each other's presence.

He prays for Taeyong's sanity tonight.

Looking up, he finds Doyoung already staring back at him, a small smile in place. 

Truth be told, he's never really interacted with the other parents much. Being a single dad was already hectic enough, and a lot of people tended to have some bias or another towards him, whether it was concious or not. He's only ever talked to Doyoung a handful of times, either in passing or when they bumped into each other at parent-teacher meetings. Standing here, with the other's imploring eyes on him, Kun felt more or less awkward.

"Don't worry too much," Doyoung starts, clearly getting rid of the silence that stretches between them. "Taeyong's really nice, and while I can't say the same for Donghyuck, he's going to make sure the kids are comfortable and well cared for."

Kun laughs, "cut the boy some slack, he's still a _kid_."

"More like a spawn of sata-"

"-Kun!"

Taeyong materializes behind Doyoung, extremely dishelved and ruffled. His eyes were just as big as the last time Kun saw him, and the brightness Taeyong excluded never failed to slap a smile on his face. He had an apron tied, pictures of little bears littered all around. Coupled with his messy hair and little wave, Taeyong looked years younger than any of them, despite being the eldest of three.

"Thank you so much for dropping Renjun! Hyuck's been feeling a little under the weather since he's come back, so this would definetly cheer him up."

They talk a little bit more, conversations about kids a hot topic amongst them all. Doyoung seems hell bent on convincing Taeyong that his son truly was a devil, while the other just fondly shook his head and patted his arm patronisingly.

They were shockingly close, and Kun didn't know how to feel around them.

Eventually, Doyoung tears himself away from their conversation, apologising before explaining he had a date with his wife tonight. Both Taeyong and Kun wiggle their eyebrows at him, while the other merely tells them to ' _shut up'_ and walks away.

Renjun gives him a goodbye kiss, a messy one slapped on to his cheeks before he gets pulled away with Donghyuck's accompanying whiny voice. It's already so chaotic, and he chances one last glance at Taeyong to find him composed as he looks at them wrecking havoc through his house.

Kun doesn't know how to feel about that either.

When he does leave, he realises he spent half an hour at the apartment, and wonders how time managed to slip by so fast. The conversations between the three circulate his mind for a while, lighting his mood as he remembers Doyoung's terrible jokes.

Maybe tonight truly would be fine.

Maybe _not_.

As soon as he enters his own home, pulling off his shoes, Kun's entire being deflates. There's no patter of footsteps echoing in the hallway, no excited sounds coming from the living room. The T.V. is black instead of the usual shows, and Kun just feels _wrong_.

He washes himself up, heats some of the food he made last night. Drying his hair, Kun makes his way to the small wine cellar he keeps tucked away in his own room, hidden and separate from his son. After a bit of contemplating, he pulls one out, a bottle he'd gotten for cheap at a nearby convenience store sale. He just needs a little bit to distract his mind, so he'd rather not waste one of the more expensive ones (a voice that sounds oddly like Sicheng tells him he's being stupid).

Kun flicks through his own playlist, then, fingers searching and searching until he decides on a song apt for the direction his mood dives in. With a sigh, he makes his way to the living room, thoughts a little more scrambled as he sees doodles on one of the walls once again.

Pouring himself some wine, he watches the red liquid slosh around before settling near the kitchen coutertops. He's preferred to keep the lighting on low, a few overhead ceiling lights the only thing illuminating both him and his scarlet companion.

The familarity that was Renjun ripped away, a bandage that he kept over his bleeding wounds. 

His glass of wine remains untouched on the countertop, and once again the skies outside decide to raise chaos of their own. Wind rattles the windows, but Kun pays them no mind, a nuisance he could no longer be bothered with if his son wasn't here.

It's only been a few hours, Taeyong's messages safely tucked away in his phone. Videos, photos, it seemed like the man kept his word (though Kun thinks it's more Taeyong's excitement fuelling his cinematography rather than his promise to him).

  
  
His heart should be at ease. His mind should be quiet. His body should take rest.

But it _can't_.

Kun thinks his body has forgotten how to.

The ache of another being, the pain of loneliness and the stabs of self-hatred had started to creep into his heart. It seemed like no matter what he tried, he could not get away. It seemed like the more Kun tried to hide, the more ferociously they hunted him. Love, trust, promise. Words that once held weight were nothing more than scraped pieces of paper and broken shards of glass in his mind.

None of it lasted.

Kun downed the wine.

Just as he reached for the bottle for more, his phone screen lit up once again. This time, the noise of his ringtone accompanying it.

"Hello?" Kun's voice sounds foreign to even himself, void of both emotion and hospitality.

" _Hey! Sorry for calling suddenly, just needed to confirm you're fine with Sunday?_ "

_Ten._

_Ofcourse_.

"Yeah, yes-I'm fine. He has school too, so it'd be best in the afternoon."

" _Okay, then. Is he currently chewing your ear off?"_

Kun laughed. Strained, but a laugh nonetheless.

"No, though I wish he was. He has a sleepover at a friend's house, so I'll be alone till then, I'm afraid."

The clock near the doorway clicked. The handles crawled the distance. A few more hours, and maybe he'd fall asleep.

Time wasn't moving fast enough.

".. _.-ey? You listening? Earth to Mr. Qian?"_

"Sorry, was just distracted."

It was silent for a while before the other spoke up.

" _You're not used to it, are you?"_

Kun sighed. "I'm afraid not. Is it that obvious?"

There was a warm chuckle. The sound washed over him, and he let himself bask in it for a moment before Ten continued.

_"I wish I could say otherwise, but you're a terrible actor, old man."_

He frowned,"hey, that's not really n-"

"- _tell you what, wanna' have a drink together? I bet you're sulking in your kitchen and drinking some cheap wine a colleague gave you."_

"...my colleague didn't give it to me."

There was a sigh, followed by what Kun could picture the perfect eyeroll, whites and all.

" _Send me your address, might as well know you're not a creepy man using Renjun to lure me in and sell my organs._ "

"Ten, what the _fuck_."

" _Address, Qian, we don't have all night."_

And Kun should've expected it.

He should've known from the times they've met before, from calls and words they've exchanged before. But seeing Ten is and always will be a surreal experience for him, he thinks, as he processes the man's bright smile greeting him in his doorway.

He knows his eyes have lingered more than necessary, and Kun makes an effort to peel them away as he welcomes him in. There is a warmth that blooms on his cheeks, and Kun wishes it would just _leave him alone._ He heads deeper into the house to retrieve a soft towel, the sound of the other lacing off his shoes clearer with each step back towards him.

"Here," his voice is steady, a little more firmer than he'd thought, "your hair's all wet. You'll get a cold if you stay like that."

Ten's face tumbles through confusion and surprise, as he takes in his words and grabs the white towel. Kun merely gives him a small smile, gesturing to hang his coat and umbrella on the rack near the door before following him in. Ten's footsteps are light, and Kun realises with a start that other than Sicheng and his parents, it's been well over a year since he's let anyone else home.

The thought is both surprising and worrisome, as now his brain goes into overdrive about what he should do first. Should he offer some water? Food? Ask about his day? It seems like minute things that are easily overlooked to others, but Kun feels a nagging need inside of him to do things right. He starts to worry his bottom lip, and before he knows it there's a cold touch on his elbow.

Kun startles out his thoughts, to Ten looking at him contemplatively. Should he break the silence? His mind is a mess, and he's starting to feel this was all a big mistake.

"Kun," Ten says, his voice light in the midst of the storm still ripping itself apart outside his apartment. "Its okay, take a deep breath and relax. It's just me."

And ofcourse, those words take a little more time to work through the maze of his mind. They collide with his thoughts here and then, but after a few intakes of breath, Kun feels his mind clear up. 

Embarassed, he covers his face with his hand. Ten laughs then, sudden and intrusive in the silence that had befallen them. Kun can't bring himself to shut the other up, so he sighs and grabs a glass for each of them before making his way back into the living room. It seems like the other truly does not care about who's the host and who's the guest, sprawled on his crimson sofa with his phone out, long fingers tapping furiously away. His hair is still in a disarray, and Kun feels his finger twitch. 

"Here you go," thrusting forward the glass, Ten looks up and put his phone away. He grins, slight and sly, and the action oddly reminds him of one of those chesire cats he's seen on Renjun's favourite show. It's oddly fitting, Kun thinks, as he watches the other curl up and take a sip, features delicate now he gets a better look.

"Quit staring." Ten's voice is sharp, but no malice behind it.

"I'm _not_."

"Yes, you were. Don't lie to me. I can't believe you'd lie when you have an entire son looking up to you."

"Renjun isn't here, so it doesn't matter."

"And that's exactly the problem, now, isn't it?"

They're both silent then.

"I hate you," Kun says, before tipping his own glass back. The liquid is smooth, travelling down his throat and befuddling his mind even more. He can feel Ten's feet shove him at the remark, but honestly, he feels no remorse.

"Stop ignoring me," Ten whines, shoving him for the _nth_ time. Kun's pretty sure they've both entered the realm beyond tipsy, and he's slighly amused by the way Ten won't stop kicking him, as if it's his couch and not Kun's. He doesn't even know _why_ he agreed to the other's request (more like _demand_ ) to come over, it's obvious the one topic that they both have ever talked about is his son, and he knows there's only so long you can talk about a five-year-old and his weird fascination with bees.

"I don't even know why bees, but he's like, _obsessed_. The only reason he talked to two of his now 'bestest friends' is because their names end with Lee. 'Cause it, you know, rhymes with bee."

"Its always the fucking bees, I tell ya'." And with that, Ten finishes every last drop of wine in the bottle. He's gotten much more drunk than Kun had anticipated, and he now realises there's no way he can go home in this state. Before he can voice his horrifying realisation, Ten suddenly sits up, eyes slighly dazed but determined as he stares at Kun.

"What?" He croaks, the attention heavy on his mind. He hates the way that Ten wordlessly moves closer, until they're mere inches apart. The silence is suffocating, the other's presence even more. His heart rate tumbles and spirals, each more faster than the next. Ten's cheeks are rosy, the kiss of red wine evident on his dazed features. He wishes the other would say something, or move away, because Kun does not think it's fair for his mind to be affected so much, so easily, in so little time. He blames it on the alcohol, and hates that he probably looks far worse than Ten. Hates that his mind still finds the other beautiful, even in his mess of a state.

"You still didn't tell me," Ten whispers, soft and low. Kun wants to shove him away, but Ten has already settled and nestled into the couch. They're no longer as close, but Kun can still feel the other's body heat from where their knees touch. 

"Tell you what?"

"Why you're so _sad_ , Kun. You keep zoning out, even when we talk. You miss him, don't you?"

And its like a bolt of reality, the words that come. Kun realises what Ten means, and a part of him hates himself for not keeping his feelings in check.

"I'm sorry, it's just," he pauses, collecting his thoughts. Ten gazes at him, eyes patient. "It's just, whenever he's away for too long, I get really worried, you know? Like I know he's fine, Taeyong just texted me a video of him eating, but. My heart just doesn't _settle_."

Ten is quiet. Kun continues.

"Kindergarten is already so hard, the first week or so I couldn't even bring myself to go to work after dropping him off. I'd just. _Stay there,_ until departure. Waiting to see him run and come to me. Renjun knows too, I think," he fiddles with his finger, more unsure as he speaks on, "and _I hate that_. He says things sometimes, like today. He asked if I'd be sad. I don't like that, Ten, I don't want him to feel that."

A beat passes, before there's a softness that runs along his cheeks. 

He's _crying_. Kun didn't know when or how it started, but he belatedly realises there's a string of small tears slipping down his face, and that Ten has somehow acquired a piece of tissue.

They don't speak much after that. Kun's still feeling a little fragile (maybe a little pathetic crying in front of his son's soon to be babysitter) and overall not great. Ten's surprisingly calm, the occasional humming and the comments about the rain the only thing said in the silence shared between them. 

They both watch the skies, the window in his living room a clear view to the outside. Lights bend and shift on his floor, the shadows of raindrops and lamppost stretching across the floorboards. The sound of water is calming, and the room gets colder as time slips on.

Kun glances to his side, a question for the other on the tip of his tongue, before his words die away just as fast. Ten's fallen asleep, face peaceful as he breathes gently. Kun watches the way his body rises and falls with each intake and exhale of breath, posture relaxed as he's curled slightly into the sofa.

Kun should probably wake him up, escort him to his own bedroom while he takes the couch. That's what he's supposed to do, that what he's been taught to do. But his own limbs feel heavy, intoxication a drug that brings with it sleep. Soon, Kun's own eyelids start to droop, soon, his own body goes lax.

Soon, Kun falls asleep. The two the only beings in the cold apartment, as the rain continues to drizzle on the outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not that satisfied with this chapter, but i don't want to delay it any longer, because I think it'll take a lot of time for me to come back to it again. I hope its not too bad ;-; I honestly don't know what to feel about it.
> 
> Also take a shot (of milk!! Or apple juice!!) everytime i make Kun cry lol
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!!♡♡♡


	5. Chapter 5

_"Where is he?"_

_"I-please listen to me, Kun, I can explain-"_

_"Where the fuck is my child?!"_

_He could barely breathe, anger setting fire to his entire nervous system. He wanted to scream. Wanted to find her and interrogate her until she'd answer. He had thought it was the cruelest thing, to separate a mother from her child, but Kun is starting to learn there is no such thing as a universal truth._

_"He's-the station, I think- atleast that's where he sa-"_

_He hung up, already pressing down on the accelerator. Kun knew he was running red lights, bills that would take a while to pay stacking up as he broke one traffic rule after the other. There was nothing on his mind, other than his baby._

_Screeching to a halt, he haphazardly parked his car before running straight into the station. The building was huge, a glass dome with a shopping centre incorporated into it. It would take forever to search the entire place, but Kun had a hunch of where exactly he needed to go._

_Taking two steps at a time, he ran down the escalators, apologies spilling from his lips as he bumped into people. He needed to go faster, willing his legs to work harder, his eyes to search farther._

_On the ground level, the platform was filled with only a few people leaving for work, students chattering about. No trains in sight, and a quick glance at the timings displayed above had Kun sighing in relief._

Please _, he prayed,_ please, let my son be okay.

_He asked around, frantic, with a picture on his phone. A few students started helping out, spreading the words to their friends until a good group of them had come to his aid. Kun hoped with every fibre of his being, that he was not wrong to come here, that he was not wasting precious time he could spend searching elsewhere._

_It was only when he went further down the platform, did he catch a glimpse of a red coat. He quickened his steps, hope, anxiety and desperation mingling into one until he finally saw the child turn around._

_Renjun._

_"Junnie," he screamed, a sob already working its way up his throat. Renjun looked back at him, a dazed expression on his face._

_Unease started to settle into his bones with each step. Renjun wouldn't say anything, wouldn't make a single move. He slowed his footsteps as he came to a halt, trying to talk to his son again._

_"Junnie-"_

_"-You're too late."_

_"What? Baby, papa's here for you! I'm sorry I-"_

_"-You're too late." His son said again, eyes now devoid of any emotion. Before Kun could speak again, Renjun jerked sideways near the tracks. Kun reached his hands out in panic, afraid of the incoming sounds from a train nearing, and just as he grabs his son's red jacket and pulls-_

_-his fingers slip._

*

Kun wakes with a start, body drenched in sweat.

His breathing is going haywire, prompting him to try and do one of the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him.

 _In and out,_ he thinks, _take your time, there's no need to rush._

Once he finally gets it under control, he checks the time on his phone. 7:00 AM.

About an hour before he'd have to go pick up Renjun.

There's a few messages from Taeyong about the kids' breakfast, calming his nerves and easing the tension out of him. Renjun was fine, everything was _fine_. All it was was a bad dream.

He thinks of laying back down for a few more minutes before he hears someone cursing.

It's only a second later that he realises he's on the sofa, with Ten few inches away, looking mere seconds away from ripping his hair into two.

And while his own head has slowly started to throb, the events of last night's wine escapades coming back, he's pretty sure Ten had downed two whole bottles alone before passing out.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, because anything louder makes him feel a little too sensitive. Ten stops grumbling before looking at him, confused. It's a sight, Kun thinks, watching different emotions flit across his face before realisation strikes him.

"What time is it?" Ten rasps out. After Kun tells him, he collapses back into the sofa with a long-suffering sigh. Kun's not really sure what to do, so he pushes himself off the bed and makes his way to the cabinet in the living room where he stashed all the medicine. That was one place in the house Renjun could neither reach on his tiptoes nor pry open if he did acquire a stepping stool.

Rummaging through until he finally finds a couple painkillers, he gets both of them glasses of water. Ten thanks him through the pain, swallowing two and burrowing himself further in the sofa. With his curled up frame, messy hair, and constant sounds of distress, Ten is extremely reminiscent of a cat, and Kun does not know what to make of it.

"Get up," he says instead,"you can take my bed. You can clean up too, if you want. Pick anything from the wardrobe, I guess." Ten shows no signs he's heard any of what Kun has said, and Kun leaves him like that in favour of getting cleaned up himself.

It's only half an hour later, when he's cooking up breakfast in the kitchen, mind miles clearer than it was before, that Ten steps in too. He's wearing one of his sweaters and a pair of shorts he probably dug up from the corner of the closet. They hang loosely on him, sleeves slipping past his fingers everytimes he moves hands, hair still a little damp and eyes still a bit clouded in the realm of sleep. Ten looks soft, and its makes Kun's heart melts in a way it hasn't in a _long_ time.

"Oh! Can I have some black pepper on my eggs too?" Ten says, suddenly much more awake. And just like that, Kun snaps back to the present, wordlessly sprinkling some on the freshly cooked egg. Ten makes small sounds of appreciation throughout their whole meal, and it isn't until he starts preparing to leave does a thought strike him.

"Ten," he calls out, the other looking up from where he was tying his shoelaces, "I-I mean only if you're free but-do you, I don't know, maybe wanna meet Renjun today?"

He waits nervously.

Ten contemplates for a moment before giving him a wide grin.

"Sure, why not."

*

"Is you friend a millionaire? What the fuck?"

Kun frowns at the profanity before stepping out the car after Ten. They walk through the hallways of Taeyong's building, marvelling at the interior.

"He's not my-nevermind." Ten ignores him in favour of tracing his fingers on one of the frames hanging between the elevators. It looks carved, intricate designs of flowers and leaves weaving around the whole painting. It's stunning, and he feels a little regretful that he didn't appreciate it as much the first time he visited.

The elevator dings, and he pulls Ten along inside.

"What does this guy even _do?_ " Ten starts, looking outside the glass facing the city, "this is one of the priciest flats in the city."

 _That_ , Kun was not aware of. It makes sense, considering the grandeur. As for Taeyong's job...he's not really sure. He's never had a full conversation with the man, and seen him even less consdering Donghyuck joined only a few months ago. Doyoung might know, it would be weird if he didn't. The man wouldn't let Jeno around anyone for longer than an hour unless he knew each and every detail there was to know about them. Doyoung's also, suprisingly (and kinda sadly), much better at the whole friendship thing than he is.

Once they finally step out, the hallways echo with their footsteps. It's the type of place that makes you feel too loud for even whispering, and both of them keep their lips shut until they reach his flat. It's only when he rings the doorbell and hears a chirpy 'coming!' does he realise he has no idea how to explain Ten's sudden existence to his child.

Fate loves to mock him, for before he can even think, Taeyong opens the door with a huge grin and a smudge of what seems like applesauce on his forehead.

"Hi! Come in, come in! Renjun's just packing up," his eyes cast towatds Ten, who gives him a small wave and a shy ' _hello_ ', "please, the two of you, make yourself at home."

*

  
"So you like, dance?"

Mark is _adorable_ , and Kun wants to steal him from Taeyong and never give him back again.

He has a toothy smile, starry round eyes, and a slight lisp from his braces. He'd greeted them both shyly before sitting down next to them, perking up when Ten mentions he's a dance teacher for a studio downtown.

This is new information to him as well, since Kun had just assumed he taught kids at some sort of institute. Mark hangs on to each and every word that Ten says, explaining how he studied both art and dance at university.

"Woah, you can really do that?" And its just so adorable Kun thinks he might cry. Ten doesn't look any better either.

"Yup," he answers, "you have to really love it, though. It was really stressful since I had to prepare performances and art projects on time."

"Umm," Mark starts, voice now dropping to a whisper. He has to lean into Ten to even understand what he says next, "do you think I could learn too? Like, could you teach me too? You're _really_ cool, and I-uh, wanna learn from...you. Only! If its okay."

Instead of answering like Kun expected him too, Ten crosses his arms and hums. He's tempted to nudge Ten into responding, if only because Mark looks so genuinely nervous, as if anyone would have the heart to deny him of what he wanted. 

"Tell you what," Ten says finally, "if you can convince your dad, you can start coming as soon as next week." 

Mark beams at him, and Ten coos before ruffling his hair. 

"Well, well," a voice comes from behind them, "have you already made new friends, Mark?"

Taeyong looks dashing, as he always does, after cleaning his face and changing out of his pyjamas. Just as he comes to sit down next to Mark, the sound of aggressive tiny footsteps accompanied by a chorus of " _daaaaaaad_!" follow him in.

Renjun tumbles right onto him, his body latching on to his father with the biggest smile. Donghyuck stops right behind him, and it takes him all of two seconds before he realises they're wearing matching shirts, one having the sun for Donghyuck, and the other a moon for Renjun.

"Don't they look _so_ cute?" Taeyong gushes as he notices his expression, suddenly turning to Ten, "it was just so _adorable_ , you know? They just look so cute, I couldn't help myself." Ten nods along, but he doesn't think Taeyong really cares as he continues to tell him about how cute, amazing, smart, lovely and a bunch of ther adjectives the two were, especially Renjun. 

"Baby," he asks Renjun, who's sitting slumped against him on his lap, Donghyuck pulled away by Mark to get play dough out of his hair. "Did you have fun?" Renjun nods, before giggling at a compliment Taeyong throws his way. He's awfully quiet, and Kun quickly understands why.

Renjun keeps stealing glances at Ten, (badly) attempting to be subtle by playing with his fingers. Ten is still trapped by Taeyong's need to dump all the uncontained joy he's felt because of the kids, _including_ Jeno. And after the man had made the mistake of asking who Jeno was, Taeyong whipped out his phone to haphazardly show him all the pictures he'd had.

It's amusing, Kun thinks. He'd never really taken Taeyong as the soft type, immediately assuming he was closed off from the few interactions they'd had. He'd overheard a few other parents talking about him too, and he feels a little embarassed to have formed an image of him without even meeting the man.

"Papa," Renjun whispers, steering his attention away, "is that your new friend?"

"Yup," he replies, "he's going to help us out for a little bit. Is that okay with you?" He waits patiently, letting Renjun take in the information. They both watch as Taeyong laughs and hits Ten twice, who looks confused but still endeared nonetheless. 

(Ten catches Renjun staring once, as Taeyong shows him a video of Mark trying to socialise with a squirrel, and gives him a little wink. Renjun turns away immediately and starts playing with his moomin plushie, but as Kun peers down at him, he can see a small smile playing at his lips.

"I'm back!" Donghyuck's voice booms, and just like that, everything goes back to chaos.)

*

The car ride is eventful.

Ten opted to sit at the back with Renjun instead, occassionally giving directions on where to drop him off. He could see Renjun's hesitant movements in the rearview mirror, his little pauses and soft voice starkly standing out. Renjun was always so shy in front of strangers, even more so to adults. Which makes him think on how Donghyuck managed to befriend him in the first place, but that's a thought to explore for another day.

It's a while later, when he hears giggles from the back, alongside Ten's dramatics as he defensively says ' _it really did happen!'_. By the time they arrive at Ten's apartment complex, Renjun's already full on laughing, all nervousness gone in the span of a few hours since they first met. He relectuntly bids a goodbye to Ten, voice sad as he asks to double check if it was the right house for the _nth_ time.

"Don't worry, little one," Ten assures, in a voice that sounds oddly like an imitation of a Disney villian, "we shall soon meet once again!" 

And of course, Renjun and his lame sense of humour finds it hilarious.

Kun lowers his window after Ten gets off. "Thank you so much, for today and..." _last night_. He thinks about the crushing feeling of being alone keeping him up on other nights, thinks about how he can't even begin to explain how grateful he was- _is_ -for the distraction.

Ten seems to understand, as he always does with his weird seventh sense, and just waves him off. "Don't get ahead of yourself, old man, I'm only here because your kid is the cutest little button in the whole world."

This time, Kun doesn't even try to correct him. Instead, he offers a soft smile, glancing at Renjun in the backseat. "He is, isn't he?"

*

"Papa."

"Hmm?"

"I think I really like Mr. Ten."

"That's great, junnie. I think I really like him too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm finally updating after 13557 years lol. I kinda got inspiration in the middle of last night and finally got an idea on how to further the story so yay :D
> 
> Also kunten nation is dry asf I needed to put in my contribution asfgjkfll
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudos or comment if you liked the chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Ten fits in perfectly.

It’s strange, and he tells Sicheng as much. “You’re just paranoid,” he says, before taking another bite of a cookie that was clearly not meant for him. Kun scowled, before snatching the container away from him, “ _stop._ I made it for the kids, not you.”

As usual, the other was of no help in helping Kun sort through his complicated feelings. After weeks of feeling on edge that something would go wrong, that one day he would come home to either Renjun gone, or a distressed call that would prove his concerns valid, but yet.

Yet none of it happened.

Instead, he comes home to a beaming Renjun, animatedly telling him about his day at school, about his time with Ten, about all the adventures he had in a day. He doesn’t even wait for Kun to freshen up and meet him in the living room anymore, following him like a little duckling with starry eyes, telling him all about the dogs and cats he met on their occasional trips to the park. And Kun had realized, only yesterday, that this rambling had extended itself onto Ten too, hearing his son complain about his dad’s boring taste in music, the ice cream he hid in the deepest part of the freezer so Renjun couldn’t reach it even if he tried.

The feeling that’s been embedding itself in his chest is unfamiliar; strange. He doesn’t know what to make of it, doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. It isn’t until Sicheng pokes him with a chopstick does he snap back.

“You good?” he asks, scarfing down some rice. He eats so much, yet somehow manages to stay the exact same weight every health checkup. Kun would be annoyed if he wasn’t so lost in his own head.

“You know,” he starts again, after Kun doesn’t reply, “you can stop being so paranoid now. I mean, I get why, but it’s not healthy. Not for you, and especially not for him. Kids pick up on these things really fast, you know.” He _knows,_ but he still can’t help it.

“I’ll try,” he opts for instead, and Sicheng scoffs, because he was always good at seeing through Kun’s bullshit like that. They don’t talk much after that, and soon, he’s bidding his best friend goodbye, reluctantly handing a bag of cookies.

“You’re so stingy,” is the only appreciation he gets before--to Kun’s utter shock—he envelops him in a hug. He’s so caught off guard, that for a moment, he merely stands still, arms unsure of what to do until they finally place themselves on the other’s back.

Sicheng doesn’t exactly _do_ physical affection, and for him to be the one _initiating_ , was rare. He let himself relax in the other’s hold, a tightness building up in his chest, cherishing the moment as much as he could.

“You need to start moving on, _shǎguā,”_ Sicheng whispers, “for Jun, for _you._ ”

*

“Guess who’s here!”

Kun pauses his typing, eyes widening when he recognizes the voice.

_Ten._

_Fuck, I forgot to tell him._

He hears the rustle of shoes near the door, before Kun gets up. Ten is still by the door, unlacing his boots, a duffel bag no doubt he hauled from practice still slung across his shoulders. Kun clears his throat.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Kun retorts, bows furrowing in confusion. He gestures for the bag, nearly dropping it because of how heavy he hadn’t expected it to be. He places it near the couch in the living room, before going back to see Ten hanging his coat on the racks. “Where’s the little bug?” he asks, a wide grin immediately stretching across his face. He turns to face Kun, and renders him breathless for a moment. There’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, his hair all over the place. The lights in their hallway cast a glow about him, and Kun thinks he’s been quiet for way too long.

“Umm, about that,” he scratches his neck, eyes downcast, “so he might be having a play date with Jeno today?”

Ten’s face immediately falls.

“Oh,” he sounds dejected, the light leaving his eyes bit by bit. Kun doesn’t think he’s particularly bad company, but the reaction is so drastic he can’t help the guilt that bubbles up. “I’m really sorry, I could make you something to eat” he starts, the same moment Ten goes “I guess I’ll be leaving then.”

 _Wait._ “What? No, you thought I was going to make you _leave_?”

Ten’s silence is all the answer he needs. “You’re so dumb sometimes, come in.” He doesn’t even look back, immediately going over the kitchen to put a kettle on the stove. Ten liked green tea, one of the only reason Kun even bough a packet of the dreadful thing in the first place. Just as he goes to grab a mug, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Mind if I keep you company?”

And maybe he was overthinking it, but he couldn’t help but notice the mildness with which Ten was regarding him. _He’s probably tired_ , he reasoned. “Sure,” the kettle whistled from the stove, “take a seat.”

He goes back to making the tea, a red for him instead of green, before settling their mugs on the countertop in the middle. Ten had pulled his sleeves all the way down, now acting as a barrier against the heat of the mug. He was quiet, Kun noted, much more than usual. He doesn’t want to pry too much, though, so he lets it slide.

*

“Are you working?”

Kun hums, back against the couch, laptop balanced in his lap. He can barely hear the other, Ten’s voice extremely soft.

He’s been acting strange ever since he came in, and though he’s trying to ignore it, it sends a flare of concern. Kun’s almost done with his report, and he contemplates asking Ten to stay till dinner, so he can meet Renjun as well. All he needs to do is a quick re-check, making sure he didn’t mistype-

“Kun?” This time, he sets his laptop aside. Ten’s curled up in the corner of the couch, attention focused on playing with his fingers. Kun can’t make out his expression; the man’s hair obscuring his vision from where Ten’s bent forward.

“Yeah?” He keeps his voice light. Kun waits, until he starts to think that Ten hadn’t heard him the first time. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Hug him? Talk to him? A hand on his knee? Or was he to just leave him alone, until Ten could manage the words themselves to tell Kun what he wanted. It’s throwing him off a little, to be faced with a Ten that is so different from the one he usually sees; it’s like he’s meeting a whole new person again.

“Can I-can I, umm, talk to you about something?” Kun nods, uttering a sound of affirmation. He waits, until Ten sits up, hands in his lap, a gloom clouding him. He heaves a sigh, “I…well, there’s this kid in my class—he’s _really_ good—but, well, I got a call from him today morning.” Ten squeezes his eyes shut before continuing, “he-he got into an accident, something about falling down the stairs—anyways, he tore a ligament in his ankle.” Kun took a sharp breath in, that must’ve _hurt._

Ten continues, looking more and more drained, “and _god,_ Kun, he was crying _so much._ I-I couldn’t even understand him until his mom took the phone but- _fuck_ , this is so hard to talk about.” Before he can say anything, Ten curls into himself further. “Just, he was so excited for this upcoming recital, you know? And it hurts so much even though I _know_ I can’t do anything-I just-I feel so _helpless._ His doctors said it might take him a whole _six weeks_ , he’s devastated—and I can do nothing to help him, _nothing_.”

And Kun understands him all too well. He reaches out, placing his own hand on Ten’s trembling ones. Ten doesn’t say anything, but he has a feeling he couldn’t even if he tried, not with the way his shoulders had started to shake.

He thought back to the times he would ring his own parents in the dead of the night, voice thick with tears, and an insecurity that had so deeply started embedding itself that early on. He remembers the crushing guilt, of not being fast enough, not being attentive enough, not being _enough,_ all too clearly. He thinks, thinks and thinks of what he can offer Ten, to soothe the pain.

Once the first tears fall, Kun moves to run his hands through his hair, just the way he does to Renjun when he cries. He’s never been good at these kind of things, but he tries, and he hopes that counts for something. Minutes pass by, Ten’s small hitches and sniffles filling the silence, until he finally starts to calm down.

“You feeling better?” he asks, and after a few beats of silence, Ten nods. He sits up a little straighter, rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. Kun reaches for the tissues behind him, handing them over. “Sorry,” he rasps out, “I wasn’t planning on getting emotional but here we are.” He lets out a wet chuckle, and the sound of it makes him smile.

“Hey, it’s only fair. You’ve seen me cry, and now we’re even.” _Lighter,_ Kun thinks, when Ten smiles back. He wonders why he ever thought adulthood was something to look forward to back when he was a kid, the reality much more depressing.

“How do you do it?” Ten whispers, “Don’t you get tired?” It takes him a moment to realize he’s talking about Renjun. Kun doesn’t have an answer to that immediately. It _was_ tiring, to somehow spend hours on end on work, and still manage to have enough energy to match Renjun’s. It _was_ tiring, to stay awake late hours into the night and early into the morning, completing one thing after the other because there was just never any _time_. It _was_ tiring; on days that Renjun would decide to be difficult, on days he’d throw one tantrum after the other, on days he’d get a complaint from his teachers.

_But._

But there were days he’d be greeted with an excited Jaemin at the doors, gushing to him about new sentences Renjun could write perfectly, or high scores on a test. They were days he was met with toothy smiles, eyes that shone so bright and preened under Kun’s compliments. There were times when it made it all worth it; Renjun’s first words, his first steps, a card he made at kindergarten that spelled everything wrong with a smiley face on it, and moved Kun to tears.

He thinks how he could encapsulate those memories, and present them to Ten. He wonders how he can give him the right words, to make it feel a little better, a little less burdensome.

“I love him,” he tells Ten eventually, “and that’s enough of a reason, isn’t it?”

Ten watches him, careful; soft, something indecipherable behind his eyes, when he finally says: “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

*

“I can drop you off,” he offers instead, as Ten laces his shoes back up.

He wished he could stay a little longer, maybe even meet Renjun before he left, but Ten had to be up early for practice tomorrow, so Kun could only relent after allowing him to steal a few cookies from the kitchen. “That would be nice,” Ten finally says, shrugging on his coat. He’s looking much better than he had since he first arrived, and Kun feels a sense of relief; maybe he was able to help after all.

He grabs his own jacket, taking his keys. Ten reaches to take the bag, but he gets it to first, shouldering it and moving out despite the other’s protests. The ride in the elevator is silent, but Kun finds that he doesn’t quite mind it, not like he did before. They walk through the parking lot until they finally reach his car, Kun chucking the bag in the backseat before opening the door for Ten.

Ten looks at him strangely, before getting in.

It’s only when he gets into the driver seat, backing out and finally getting on the road, does Kun feel… _different._ Ten immediately goes to connect his phone to the aux cord, his playlist now accompanying them along the way. Ten starts to hum along, and when Kun glances over, he has his head against the window, fingers tapping away at his knee. There’s a thing silver earing lining the shell of his ear, and it glints under the streetlights.

Kun’s fingers twitch. He switches his attention back to the door in front of him.

He pulls up in front of Ten’s apartment complex eventually, letting go of the steering wheel. “Take care, Kun,” Ten says, and when Kun glances at him this time, Ten’s already looking at him. _You too_ , he thinks. Ten climbs out, opening the backdoors to retrieve his bag. Kun rolls down the window, out of habit, before realizing he’s driving alone tonight. 

His heart aches.

“Goodnight,” he calls out, and Ten gives him a small wave, before walking back home.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything to Renjun, his son already dripping with sleep by the time they enter the apartment. Kun tucks him in, and before he can leave, Renjun mumbles for him to stay. He pauses, before leaving the room to get into his own pajamas.

Kun curls up next to him, pulling him close and letting his eyes fall shut.

_It’s time to move on, for Jun, for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my love language: crying about everything to my lover lmao  
> anyways,,,,  
> if ypu enjoyed pls leave a kudos/comment! Motivates me to write!


	7. Chapter 7

Yukhei groans next to him, before planting his head into the paperwork.

Kun clicks his tongue. “Stop being so loud,” he chides, very aware of the daggers being thrown at them from the opposite side of the office.

“Easy for you to say,” he mumbles, peeling off a sticky note before diving back in with a pen in one hand, a mouse under the other. “This is so fucking boring, at least you get to get up and walk around, I’m glued.” Kun doesn’t spare him a glance, eyes intently on the screen. Sure, he’d have to get up and check in with the other departments sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t bored out of his fucking mind. The only thing on his mind right now was that promotion, and he would be damned if he didn’t put his all into snatching it.

“Where’s your mentor?” he eventually asks, placing his glasses on the table. His eyes were going dry again; he’d need to use some eye drops. Yukhei pouted at the question, immediately abandoning his work to turn and answer him. He could easily multi-task, but one peek and yeah, the paperwork did look boring.

“Who knows? I certainly don’t,” Kun watches; amused, as Yukhei looks more distraught as he continues, “he might be upstairs with the other team, might be at his desk-or-or, even on a _date._ ” Yukhei was suddenly very sad. “He’s so fucking hot Kun,” he whispered, “I bet he’s on a date.”

“Just ask him out, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jungwoo with anyone for a long while now,” Yukhei gasped, as Kun dripped two drops of some drop he bought at a medical store into his eyes, hoping for the best. “ _Why?_ ”

Kun was confused, “what do you mean ‘why’?” Aren’t you happy? You’ve got a chance.”

“I mean _I am_ -but-Jungwoo is so _nice_? How has no one asked him out? He’s so _sweet_ , and _kind_ , and caring, and always takes care of me- _us_ , always takes care of _us_ and he’s so damn pretty-oh my _god,_ is he pretty Kun let me tell-“

He tunes Yukhei’s rambling out. _Ah, young love,_ he thought, _so atrociously exhausting._

*

“Mr. Qian!”

He stops, turning to see Sejeong—his coworker—running from across the parking lot. She stops in front of him, catching her breath. “I’m really sorry,” she huffs out, still panting, “But-I missed my bus, and I need to get home as soon as I can, my car broke down yesterday and-my husband he, the-“

“-it’s alright,” Kun interrupts her, an understanding smile in place, “I’ll drop you, get in.”

*

So maybe, Kun needs to start socializing more.

“Doyoung is your _husband_?” He’s so shocked that he accidentally ignores the clearly visible bandage on the man’s arm. Sejeong gives him a confused smile, as she gets out of the car. “Yeah,” she answers, “Renjunie even came over a few days ago, didn’t he?”

 _Renjunie. She’s met Renjun? Wait, she’s Jeno’s_ mother _?_

“Yes, Kun,” Doyoung interrupts, taking the bag from his wife ( _his wife!!!_ ). “I thought you already knew…?”

Oh, how was he supposed to tell Doyoung he had not once made any attempt to talk with anyone besides Yukhei (and that was only because the intern wouldn’t leave him alone) in his office. The shame burns his cheeks a deep scarlet. Doyoung laughs, telling Sejeong to go up before him.

“You’re so pathetic,” he says with a laugh, and _ouch, Doyoung was so blunt._ “But I don’t blame you, I mean, the author wasn’t sure who my wife was either until now.”

It doesn’t do much to ease his guilt. “Still, I should’ve at least asked you, or even her—but why didn’t she say anything?”

Doyoung shrugs, “she probably thought she didn’t need to, since we already talk. You don’t really talk to anyone, right? So Sejeong just assumed you’d like to keep it that way, you know, single dad and all, it might me burdensome to you.”

 _No, it wouldn’t have,_ he wants to say, but he knows that would be a lie. He’s not had a great experience with a lot of the mothers, especially after his divorce. A lot of them would be nice to him, but he’s heard enough gossip and speculation about him and his child to last a life time.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Doyoung suddenly says, expression serious, “I understand, I’m not actually- _mad_ or anything.” And Kun knows, but there’s still a part of him that feels regretful deep down. Doyoung must notice because he gives him a small smile, “hey, come on now. You’re so busy and yet you’re still doing your best in raising a whole _child_ , you and Taeyong both. I can’t imagine not having her by my side through this,” Doyoung says, “Jeno fell and scraped his elbow really bad yesterday, and believe me when I tell you I almost cried.”

Kun wouldn’t doubt it. “Thank you,” he says, putting his seatbelt back on. Doyoung backs away, giving him a wave before turning to leave. Just then, an idea strikes him, “Doyoung!” he calls out. The man pauses, waiting for Kun.

“How-how about we get together this weekend? You, me and Taeyong?” Before the other can say anything, he cuts in: “my treat.”

Doyoung looks as though he wants to protest, but soon deflates at Kun’s glare. Despite his pout, there’s warmth in his words as he says: “I would love too.”

Maybe, just maybe, Kun was taking a step in the right direction this time.

*

Kun rifled through the clothes, occasionally pressing one against Renjun’s back to check the size. Renjun himself just munched on mini carrots, and he looked _so_ cute, Kun had bought five packs in a moment of weakness.

“Junnie,” he nagged, “stay _still._ ” Renjun did, in fact, not stay still. Though Kun could see the effort, for he was no longer swaying on his feet, but now vibrating with restless energy. Shopping for winter clothing was always such a hassle, and as much as he was happy to see that his baby was growing, that unfortunately equates to newer clothes as the older ones no longer fit him.

“Papa,” Renjun said, tugging on his pant leg, Kun hummed. He couldn’t decide between a blue or a black coat, Renjun utterly useless when asked. Renjun tugged again, and he placed the black one in the shopping cart, now moving on to scarves. “What is it?”

When Renjun tugged again he turned around, mildly annoyed. “What do you want, Renjun?” He asked, careful to keep his tone in check. He hoped it wasn’t another gumball machine. He would cry if it was.

Renjun pointed towards the opposite aisle, the other hand still clutching his carrot, “Papa,” he repeated, “is that Mama?”

Kun’s blood ran cold. He snapped his head up in the direction Renjun was pointing, and internally cursed. _Not now,_ he begged the universe, _please._ Renjun was looking at him now, and Kun could feel the weight of his gaze as he contemplated his options. How was he supposed to act? He hoped his face didn’t betray his emotions. The last thing he wanted was for Renjun to feel bad.

“Do you,” he took a breath in, “do you want to go meet her?” Kun desperately hoped his smile looked as natural as it could. Just because he didn’t want to meet his wife ( _ex-wife,_ he reminded himself), didn’t mean he could deprive Renjun of his right to meet his mother.

He braced himself, as Renjun looked back at her. She was still the same, Kun thought, long dark hair, light coloured clothing, a dash of what looked like simple makeup as the cold creeped closer. She was busy going through shoes, no doubt buying a newer pair-

 _Stop,_ Kun reminded himself, _it’s over. It’s been over for a while._

He didn’t want her to meet them. Didn’t want Renjun anywhere near her. But it was up to his son to decide what he wanted, and when Renjun looked back at him, Kun held his breath.

“No,” he said, “jus’ wanted to make sure.” And then, he was off, walking towards the socks section.

Kun breathed a sigh of relief. He looked back one last time, to see her turn and place what looked like a pair of boots in her cart, and followed Renjun.

*

“You okay, sweetie?” He rubbed a streak of ketchup off Renjun’s mouth. He had decided to take a break, settling in the cafeteria, far far away from the clothing section. Renjun munched happily on his sandwich, and Kun’s heart calmed.

Renjun nodded, and swallowed down his food before speaking. “You should eat too,” he said, “eat with me.” Kun smiled, before digging into his own food. They sat in silence, Renjun too focused on eating, and Kun watching the people around him. There was a family few seats away from them, a little girl running around her parents, only stopping to grab a bite from her mother before taking off again. Kun watched, as the father giggled stealing his wife’s food when she wasn’t looking. It was cute.

Kun then remembered Ten, and his tendency to eat Kun’s food just to spite him off. He huffed a laugh at the memory; his smug expression after he’d drank Kun's soda despite his loathing for it.

Once they were done, he picked up their trays and placed them back at the counters. Renjun held out his hand, and Kun grabbed them, small fingers engulfed in his own, a little cold from the air conditioning. He grabbed their shopping bags in the other, and walked out the food court, greeted with an array of lights.

He watched Renjun’s face morph into fascination, as he all but dragged him along. They had started decorating early this year, Halloween decorations being hung up in some stores for the upcoming week, while others already putting on sales for their winter collections. And maybe, Kun too wished he was a kid, for Renjun’s amazement was so pure, so innocent, and stemmed from the simplest of things. He wished to go back, to the times he too got excited at the changing lights, at the decor and magic of it all.

He looked at the windows of each store, displaying their goods for everyone to see. The mall was now starting to get crowded, and with Renjun silent and unfocused, he tightened his grip. “Look Papa, they’re so pretty!” Renjun squealed, pointing to a display of what looked like jewellery. They shined underneath the shop’s lighting, and Kun ruffled his son’s hair, eventually pulling him along towards the exit.

(If he lingered near the store for more than necessary, well, no one would know.)

*

“Please, please!”

Renjun was practically leaping off his seat in the back, and only after Kun had shot him a stern gaze did he calm down. “I don’t know, baby, I’ll need to check if we can.”

“I have break! Aut-aut-autumn break! Jaemin said so; it’s on the 43 setember.”

Kun laughed out loud, “baby, we are in _October._ Secondly, months can’t have more than 30 days.”

“So it’s not setember?”

“ _September._ No, that was last month. This month is October. Jaemin probably said 23—which is next week—and 43 was probably something different.”

He glances back to see Renjun deep in thought with the new information. He loved his son _so_ much, sometimes it hurt. Ten had offhandedly mentioned his showcase when he was leaving, and once Renjun had deciphered what that meant, he had become hell-bent on going.

Just when he though Renjun might have let it go, his son immediately latches back on to the topic, talking about it all the way from the parking lot to their apartment. Kun wonders briefly if Ten knew the effect his words would have on Renjun, and deduced by the time they get home, that he would still say the same either way, maybe with more enthusiasm if he knew that Kun would suffer.

He checks his schedule, to find that he has to go to office that entire week, meetings with all the heads of departments lined up. He tries telling Renjun, who ignores him in favour of watching his cartoons. Kun can see that he’s slightly upset at the answer, but he lets him be. He’ll probably come around by dinner.

 **Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

_What are u making for dinner_

_pls give idea_

_my roommate is gone and i am but a man in hunger_

**Kun** **ʕ •ᴥ• ʔ**

_why didn’t you say so earlier_

_i would’ve packed you food_

**Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

_I’m dumb T-T sue me_

_i found this pasta recipe_

_i can microwave it_

_pls pray i don’t burn my house down_

_my roommate would kill me_

**Kun** **ʕ •ᴥ• ʔ**

_rip_

**Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

 _Kun_ _(_ _ಥ_ _﹏_ _ಥ)_

Kun goes back and forth with him for a while, taking a break from cooking to reply to his messages. Ten sends a lot of pictures, of his ingredients, his pasta, his microwave, and a blurry picture of his cats once he realises Kun has never seen them. Kun finds himself trying to stifle his giggles each time, because Ten gets excited on the dumbest things, and Renjun is still intently watching his show, seemingly still upset. He asks Ten what dates his showcases are on, and when he finds out all of them fall on the same week, he feels guilty telling him he won’t make it.

**Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

_It’s all good_

_happens_

_sicheng’s coming tho_

_atleast i think_

_wait i think pasta s done_

_bye bye_

Kun feels a little disappointed he has to go so soon. He messages him an 'enjoy’ before returning to his own dinner. He places the pot back on the stove, leaving a timer on before going into the bedroom. He gets the laundry into the washing machine, irons both his and Renjun’s clothes for tomorrow, packs both their bags, and goes to hang Renjun’s new clothes in his closet.

A sigh leaves him the moment he enters the room, greeted with the sight of a messy floor and bed. He ends up changing them though, and clears up the toys, crayons and papers on the floor. Just as he picks another one, he comes to face with a drawing. He can see Jaemin’s handwriting on the corner, pulling it out from the pile in curiosity.

It’s dated to a week ago, the title reading ‘ **FAMILY’** in bold. It takes him a moment to realise what Renjun drawn. There’s him, with his tie and poor attempt at glasses, there’s Renjun, with his rainbow socks. He thinks the two next to him are Donghyuck and Jeno, for one has a red t-shirt and the other blue; both their favourite colours. There’s Jaemin, with a heart on his chest, resembling the uniform the teachers wore at kindergarten. There’s Sicheng, with dashes for eyes and nothing else (Renjun has _always_ drawn him like that, Kun has never been sure _why_ ) and there’s another one at the end, next to where he is, that he still can’t figure out.

It takes him a few moments, staring at the figure until it clicks.

 _Ten._ Of course, of course it would be him. Kun takes a ragged breath in. He doesn’t know why he feels so strange. Of course Ten would be there, just like Sicheng, or Jaemin or even his friends, he’d almost become _Renjun_ ’s best friend in the span of few months. It makes so much sense, and he feels a little dumb on not guessing it sooner, but—it’s mildly throwing him off.

Renjun considers Ten _family._ He’s still a kid, Kun knows, but there’s a panic slowly forming at the back of his mind, of what would happen if Ten were to _leave._

The timer rings, the sound muted from all the way in the kitchen, but Kun hears it nonetheless. He gets up, trying to shake the negative thoughts off and goes back to the kitchen.

He pushes it all way, and only focuses on the task at hand. He can hear his phone buzz behind him, but this time, Kun lets it be.

*

  
“Junnie, I told _you_.”

Renjun huffed, shoving rice into his mouth. Some of it falls back on the plate, and Kun sighs in frustration. They continue to eat, and he adds a ladle of soup into Renjun’s bowl. He doesn’t understand why the boy just won’t let it _go._ He watches as Renjun fumbles around with the spoon, not accepting any of Kun’s help. He manages to mix his rice and eat it, and it finally helps ease some of the growing tension in Kun’s mind.

Once they’re done, Kun picks the empty dishes up, loading them into the dishwasher. He can hear Renjun shuffling behind him, and he feels the familiar throb of a headache. Renjun doesn’t say anything the entire time Kun cleans up, just standing near the door and watching him. Once he finally cleans his hands and turns around, he’s met with a frown.

“What now?” he snaps, and Renjun immediately cowers. Kun wants to throw himself away. He heaves a sigh, before crouching in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he says, a tired smile in place, “I didn’t-“

“You can’t take a holiday? For one day?”

 _Not this again._ “Renjun,” he says, voice growing hard, “I’ve told you so many times, okay? Papa can’t go, I need to go to work.”

“But you’re always at work!” Renjun screams. Kun falters back. “You-you-you’re always at work! Work! Work! Work!” Kun moves forward, trying to console him as Renjun’s eyes start getting teary. But Renjun immediately steps back, and Kun feels like someone’s slapped him, _hard._ “You only care about work!” he screams, and now he’s crying, and Kun can only watch—“You don’t care about _me_! Mama don—doesn’t care! Only Ten cares! And-and only Jaemin hyung cares!” The words are acid on his heart, and Kun stays there, on the kitchen floor, as Renjun runs back to his room, the echo of the door being shut ringing in his ears.

Kun stays there, his own eyes getting misty. He feels an awful like atlas, as he pulls himself up eventually. He feels an awful like atlas; the world on his shoulders, as he reaches for his phone. He feels an awful like atlas, as he slips on to the floor, legs too jelly to carry him anymore and dials the number before waiting. Kun feels an awful like atlas; the world tying him down, holding him in place; one wrong movement, and it would crash down on his shoulders.

An awful like atlas—as his mother’s voice comes in, bright and cheery—the world already crashing down, pressing him into the ground until he was no more than a pulp of what he used to be.

“Ma”, he says, trembling under the counter top, “Ma _, I can’t do this anymore_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might've projected some childhood memories on here 0-0  
> but honestly, as a kid, i though the same about my parents. i was an only child so my mom would be busy with house work and my da would come late at night. now that im older i get it obviously but in a kids perspective it feels like such a huge blow, even my cousin gets really upset when his dad doesnt immediately play with him when he comes home since hes so tired  
> Kudos to all the single parents out there who are really trying to make it work, its probably hard as hell, both on them and the kid/s
> 
> Anyway,, thank you so much for reading! I felt inspired so i decided to write another chap and got it complete today. If you enjoyed pls consider leaving a kudos/comments! Means a lot!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note!! Kun's wife is OC, she isnt based off of anyone.

Kun was _exhausted._

There, he’d finally admitted it. He could barely open his eyes, still too puffy from the hour (or more, he didn’t really keep track) he did to his mother. Once she started speaking, there was nothing more that could stop him from breaking down any longer, spilling his heart out to her as she listened and gave him words of love. She had thoroughly scolded him then, after he’d finally calmed down, for not telling her sooner, but even that had managed to comfort Kun.

His alarm rings once again, trying to push him out of bed and start his day. Kun groans, flipping over on the pillows. He’d promised to call his mother almost every other day, and while he’d felt a lot lighter when he’d tried to go to bed, he could tell Renjun was still very upset. The boy hadn’t opened his door nor responded to any of his apologies, merely telling him to go away. Kun hadn’t wanted to enter until Renjun would allow him to, so he could only go back to his own room, door ajar just in case.

 _“Give him time,”_ she’d said, _“Jun is a smart boy, he’ll come to you when he wants to.”_

Kun desperately wished it was true. He trudges towards the bathroom, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and walking towards the living room once he’s done showering. He’s dreading waking his son up, wondering whether he should call Jaemin to take a leave. But before he can decide, he pauses in his steps, eyes widening at the scene in front of him.

Renjun is—at least what it _looks_ like to Kun—getting ready for school. All by himself. He rubs his eyes, glancing at the clock to see there was still a good hour left, and looking back to see his son ineffectively trying to tie his shoelaces. Despite how utterly _bizarre_ the situation is, Kun has to stifle a laugh, realizing that Renjun still hasn’t seen him.

The boy is even mumbling to himself, as he huffs before throwing his shoes off. Renjun looks ridiculous, a neon pink t-shirt with neon pink pants—ones that he belatedly realizes were gifts from Sicheng, discarded to the depths of the closet after Kun had deemed them cursed—and it’s blowing his _mind._ Renjun _knows_ Kun hates that outfit with a burning passion, so did that mean—was…was Renjun trying to _be petty?_

Kun watches, leaning against the doorway, amused. He’d expected a lot more screaming, braced himself for temper tantrums—but _this_? It wouldn’t have crossed his mind in a million years. He sees as Renjun drags his bag down from the sofa, and though Kun had already packed it the night before, Renjun stuffs some papers and crayons into it, rather aggressively. He gets on his tiptoes, pulling down the plastic bag with an apple and banana, and throws in _three_ packs of chocolate milk.

Despite his amusement, Kun is mildly impressed.

However, the moment’s quickly shattered when Kun’s phone pings, and a message from Sicheng lights up the screen. Renjun immediately looks up, eyes growing big before he ‘hmphs’ and makes a show of turning away.

His son really was too cute for Kun to handle sometimes.

*

“You want me to _what?_ ”

“Please, he won’t budge no matter how much I ask him,” Kun hopes Sicheng would take mercy on his soul. He only has ten minutes left before they need to leave, and Renjun would just not agree to leave with him. As much as it was cute in the beginning, he’s starting to get worried (and maybe he’s a little hurt) and he’s becoming desperate.

“Kun—you know I would any other day, but I’m already halfway to work,” his voice is apologetic as Kun continues to fall deeper into a mental breakdown, “It would take me at least 30 minutes to get to your place, with _this_ traffic.”

“No, yeah, I understand,” he says, before bidding the other goodbye. He scrolls through his contacts, before landing on Doyoung. Maybe if he were to leave with Jeno…?

“Hey,” Doyoung’s voice is scratchy, coming through the other side. _Please, not again,_ he thinks, before asking Doyoung the same. The other first wastes a good minute laughing, and when he finally stops, all he gets is a sad no. “The car broke down a few days ago,” he explains, “Taeyong’s been taking Jeno with him instead. Oh—why don’t you ask him? I think he passes by your place anyway.”

*

“Junnie!” The screams cause his ears to ring, but he still plasters a smile on his face instead of the grimace that’s threatening to break out. Taeyong merely watches them all with fondness, as Donghyuck and Jeno practically leap off their seats (and Kun is _sure_ they would if it weren’t for the seatbelts) when Renjun climbs in.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, once they close the backdoors, “I-just, you know how kids can get sometimes, plus Renjun’s really stubborn when he wants to be.” Taeyong places a hand on his shoulder, from his place in the driver’s seat. “I get it, Donghyuck’s the same, had to all but drag him home from kindergarten one time.” He gives him an understanding smile, and Kun is yet again reminded of how gentle Taeyong can be. His hair is a pretty pink today, and he’s decked in hoodies and sweatpants. _He’s always so calm,_ Kun thinks, as Taeyong tells him he’ll be happy to drop Renjun on the way back too.

Renjun doesn’t say anything, but Donghyuck pulls down the window to scream a ‘ _bye, uncle Kun!_ ’, Jeno joining him. He waves at them both, their enthusiasm pulling a smile on his face. Once Taeyong starts to back up the car and leave, Donghyuck screams: ‘ _we’ll take care of Junnie!’_.

And maybe, that’s all that Kun needs to hear, as he goes to his car, ready to be off on his way to the office.

*

He nearly sobs in relief.

“Come in,” he ushers a very confused Ten, “go to the living room,” he says, taking off Ten’s coat and hanging it. Ten’s got a scarf around his neck today, a soft woolen thing that reaches his nose. Kun pulls it off, hanging it with the rest on the rack.

Ten gives him a strange look before bending down to remove his shoes. Kun’s feeling a little too impatient, so he gets on his own knees and starts unlacing the other one. “Kun-hey- _what_ are you doing?!” He doesn’t reply, pulling them off and nearly throwing Ten forward into the hallway. Ten lets himself be ushered to the living room, to see Renjun intently watching some weird show about aliens and dogs.

Ten turns to him as they reach the doorway, “Listen-I have something to talk to you about,” his expression turns serious, looking up at Kun as he chews nervously on his lips. “The other day, I met-“

“-Ten?”

They both look at Renjun, who’s watching the two of them carefully. Ten breaks out into a smile, “Hey baby,” he says, walking towards him with open arms. Renjun, as expected, jumps off the sofa to give him a hug, telling him about the beetles Jaemin made them search today. Kun listens as well, the silence that had been binding the apartment now dissipating as Renjun’s cheery voice filled it up instead.

Ten holds him close, nodding along to whatever he says, still crouched on the floor. He’s always so good with him, Kun thinks, watching the way Renjun giggles as Ten teases him about something. Renjun drags Ten towards his bag, with his finger barely wrapping around three of the other's, holding on tight so they don’t slip off. He heart warms, and it’s only then does he leave to finish up the rest of the chores. 

“He’s getting sleepy? Already?” Kun looks up from his laptop to see Ten, standing outside the bedroom. He’d decided to take his work here, since he’d come back earlier than usual, too worried about Renjun to keep him at the office any longer. At least here, he could hear his son (and maybe even Ten), to keep his mind at ease.

Ten gives him a pointed look, “do you even know what time it is?”

Kun, in fact, does not. He checks, only to swear under his breath. There’s still an hour left till bed time, but Renjun had exhausted himself more than usual today, so it’s not strange at all. The only strange thing is how he’d been so lost in work, time slipping by so easily without him noticing.

“I’ve heated up some dinner from the fridge,” Ten says, as Kun opens his mouth to ask. He closes his files, saving the work before getting up from the bed. Ten waits for him, walking behind him to the kitchen. Just before he enters though, Ten holds his wrist, pulling him back.

“I-I talked to Renjun,” he whispers, “you both were acting weird today, so I figured something was up. Anyway, he wants to tell you something,” Ten smiles at him, “and _listen_ , okay? He’s a kid, but that doesn’t mean you can just ignore his feelings, no matter how childish you think they are.”

“I won’t,” he assures. Ten leaves them alone, going to the living room instead. He’s thankful for the privacy.

Renjun’s sitting in his usual spot, sloppily eating his food. He averts his eyes the moment he looks at Kun, even when he comes to sit next to him. He’s quiet, awfully so, and Kun _hates_ it, but he doesn’t want to rush him. Renjun takes his sweet time, until he finally swallows down the rest of the food and wipes his mouth. It’s a simple thing—and he might be cheesy—but he’s so proud of how hygienic his son is becoming.

“Papa,” he says, and Kun leans in, making sure all his attention is on him. “I’m sorry.”

He’s at a loss for words. Renjun’s eyes are downcast, and Kun immediately takes his hands in his own. “No, sweetie, _I’m_ sorry. You were right; I’m always busy, aren’t I?” Renjun hesitantly nods his head in agreement, making Kun laugh. “I love you, Junnie. More than anything in this world,” he brings Renjun closer, tilting his face up so he could look at him. “Remember that, okay? Nothing is more important than you, not work, not anything else, alright?”

“Not even Mama?”

“What?” Kun’s smile falters. _Where’s this coming from?_ “No sweetie, not even her. No one at all, okay? You are _always_ first.” And then, Renjun’s lips start to tremble. He swipes away the first tear as it slips by, breaking his heart into pieces. “Oh, Jun,” he whispers, pulling Renjun into his lap and hugging him close. Renjun’s hand hold on tight, as he buries his face into his shoulder. Kun runs a hand down his back, closing his own eyes shut.

“I don’t want to go to her,” Renjun tells him, and he’s so confused on how this topic even came about but he soothes him nonetheless. “Then you won’t,” he tells him, hugging him tighter, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Okay,” he says, muffled by Kun’s shirt. He’s stopped crying, but he’s still clinging on. He’ll need to talk to his mother about this; it’s too complicated for his own brain to comprehend. After two years of minimal contact, it’s weird that Renjun’s bringing it back up again. He eventually stands up, Renjun in tow once he starts feeling the boy getting heavier. Just as he walks towards the boy’s room. Renjun mumbles something into his shirt.

“Can you repeat that baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I want to say goodnight to Ten,” Renjun says, sitting up.

_Oh, right._

Ten’s doodling on his tablet when he calls his name, perking up as his eyes fall on Renjun. He switches it off, placing it to the side. “Sleep well, little bug,” Ten whispers, walking close when Renjun bids him a small ‘goodnight’. Before he can move, Ten presses a small kiss on Renjun’s forehead. Of course, the boy giggles, which meant making Ten giggle, and Kun thinks he might melt into goo right then and there.

*

“You wanted to talk about something?”

With Renjun tucked into bed, he was met with a nervous Ten. Kun’s decided to take the day off tomorrow, opting to finish his work from home. He sends the mail, just as Ten settles next to him on the couch.

“I took Renjun to the park a few days ago,” he starts, “and-what was it? Yiyang-”

“-Renjun’s mother?” Kun asks. Ten nods. _So she’s back here,_ he thinks, recalling the encounter at the mall. Uneasiness settles into his bone. “Did-did she say anything?” He’s afraid of the answer, even as he asks the question.

“Not much, surprisingly. Renjun told me first, when he saw her coming, and then she introduced herself to me. She was really nice, offered to buy lunch and all,” Ten says, playing with is fingers. “But?” Kun prods.

“But I could tell Renjun didn’t want to go. And I think she could too, because she accepted my lame excuse right away.”

“Was that it?”

“She told Renjun he could visit her whenever he liked, or she could come to him. Gave me her number too, so I could give it to you but…it didn’t feel appropriate to just text you suddenly with the news,” Ten’s voice had grown small. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that day itself. When I talked to him today, he-he said he was afraid you’d leave him too, just like his mom did-“ Kun drew a sharp intake of breath-“and I didn’t want to pry him for more, so I-I just talked to him for a while, and told him to tell you. I’m really sorry.”

“No,” Kun says, “no, thank you for telling me now. I…I’m sorry, you were in an uncomfortable spot because of me.” He tries to laughs, but it’s humourless. Ten just shakes his head. Kun pulls a glass towards him, pouring himself water from Renjun’s half empty bottle. It manages to clear his head a little, and he runs a hand through his hair, before speaking.

“My divorce,” he starts, the weight of Ten’s gaze on him, “it wasn’t… the greatest.” _A severe understatement._ “The process itself wasn’t that… _strenuous_ , if you may—I think that was the easiest. Signing the papers, and the custody—since she didn’t want to be a part of his life anymore. Our marriage was pretty good in the beginning, the ‘honeymoon phase’ or whatever. We both came here, in the city, took jobs up, started working on our careers. We were pretty understanding, any over times, any busy weeks, or even a company dinner that got in the way, I think we both brushed it off well in the beginning.”

“But that’s the thing I guess, maybe were a little too comfortable. Somewhere along the way, I think it started weighing us down more. The constant compromises, the constant need to understand each other without complaining—communication, I guess? Maybe, we should’ve talked more about it, whatever it was…but we just brushed it off, you know? Like, ‘this is what it is’ type of thing, like it was something else that would go away on its own.”

He leaned back against the sofa, suddenly extremely tired. Ten had his knees pulled up to his chest, watching him intently. Kun gave him a sad smile, “but the thing about marriage is, it’s not just a onetime thing. It’s not a project, that if you procrastinate for long enough, the deadline would come and pass by, or you could power your way through it before it ended. It’s a journey, as my mom liked to say, where two people share the same steering wheel. There’s no map, no easy way to it, and we both were too young and dumb to realize that. We started fighting more, small arguments over the stupidest things. Until, Renjun.”

“I’ve always loved kids, over the moon that I was going to be a dad. Yiyang wasn’t really expecting it, especially so early on, but she was happy nonetheless. For a while, we put our differences aside and just made sure to do the absolute best for this little baby. The first year was the hardest, but it was also the one time I think we truly felt like a couple. We were both pretty scared, so we’d discuss everything, somehow powering through and making it all work. Renjun’s first were the happiest I’ve felt in my life,” he closed his eyes, the pull of nostalgia weighing on him.

“But…it wasn’t enough?” Ten asked, hesitant. Kun nodded.

“It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, with the added cost of raising a child, we were pulling all sorts of hours, and were constantly stressed with raising Renjun. I wish I paid more attention back then, but the truth is, I don’t think we both even wanted the same things anymore. Marriage was more of a burden, than it was anything else, something else to get through with all the problems. The only time we even saw each other was when we were with him, but other than that, it was like being married to a phantom.” Kun sighed, “and then, she breaks down one day and tells me she’ seeing someone else.”

Ten gasps, “Kun…I-“

“No, it’s alright. I’ve gotten over that a long while back. It felt like a knife through my heart though, in that moment, and it was the final straw. We filed for divorce, and decided to try co-parenting.” He gestured around him, “that clearly didn’t work out.” And it felt as though he was the same Kun from all those years ago, carrying around a bleeding heart and the world on his shoulders. “We tried, for a while. She hadn’t brought it up to her boyfriend, so he was less than amused, but he eventually relented. Or at least, I thought so.”

He chugs the rest of the water down, hoping to relax a little, “was it December? Her turn to take him that week, they were going to some theatre show for Christmas—I don’t really remember—but Renjun had worn a bright red jacket. He was three, walked and ran and everything. Always so bright,” he feels his voice crack, Ten’s hand on his own, “and that _bitch_ , she left him at the fucking train station.”

He can still remember it, so clearly, Renjun playing with another kid on the bench. There was snow all around him, and Kun had thanked every deity he’d known of, that his baby was safe. He remembers her face, as she sobbed and apologized, remembers telling her to never see them again. He remembers Renjun’s little voice, asking him why his mother had left him alone for so long, he remembers the look in his child’s eyes, as he tried to understand why his dad had come, hugging him as if his life depended on it, and not his mother instead.

“She said the exact same thing, you know? That I’m always busy with work, but not once did she try for him, not once did she stand up for her own child. It was a couples only show—so she left her fucking child in the middle of December, and only called me an hour later. I _still_ get nightmares, Ten, I don’t want her anywhere _near_ him.”

He was so _exhausted_. He rested his head on Ten’s shoulder, the anger burning him from the inside. It takes a while for him to get his emotions under control, and he pulls Ten closer, the other’s hands wrapping themselves around him, holding him close.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I-m sorry you had to go through that—that _Junnie_ had to go through that.”

_Me too,_ he thinks, _me too._

“You have to eat something,” Ten insists, “you’re going to get sick if you keep this up.”

Kun eventually relents, heating up dinner for both of them despite Ten’s protests. “It’s lonely,” is the only reason he gives, when Ten groans on why, and it shuts him much faster than he’d expected. They eat in silence, Ten occasionally stealing his rice. He doesn’t mind, his appetite nearly non-existent, and instead pretends to not notice.

After they’re done, he picks up the plates, Ten following suit, helping him load the dishwasher. He tries to shoo him away, telling him he could clean up the disaster that was the living room on his own, when Ten pushes him by his shoulders. “I’m the one that suggested drawing together, so I’ll clean all of it up," and his voice is _so_ unbearably gentle, as he smiles up at him, “you go and get ready to join your son in wonderland.”

Despite the guilt, he does so, mainly because he doesn’t think he can stand up for more than five minutes without his eyes falling shut. He goes through his routine, changing into his pyjamas, and checking on Renjun one more time before he meets Ten in the hallway, pulling on his own shoes. It’s only then does he realize Ten actually has to leave.

“I-I completely forgot,” he rushes out, “do you need me to drop you?” Ten doesn’t answer, instead shrugging on his coat. He looks back at him, pulling his scarf tight around him so he looks like a mushroom. “Go to sleep, Kun,” he chuckles, “I’m a grown adult, you know. I know how taxis work.”

_I know,_ he thinks stepping closer, as Ten steps out of the apartment. _I know,_ he wants to say, as Ten tells him goodnight, so close that if Kun reached out, he’d be able to pull him back in. _I know,_ he thinks, waiting until Ten gets in the elevator, to finally go back inside, _but I don’t want you to leave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you think this is okay?”

Sicheng did not respond, instead tickling Renjun’s side so he could stop taking his phone. Kun sighed, feeling the familiar prickle of anxiety jab at his veins. _It’s just a hangout,_ he tried reassuring himself, _just a casual hangout._

But it didn’t stop Kun from worrying his lip, putting the outfit he’d just worn under strict scrutiny in the mirror. He’d put on a blue shirt and a pair of black pants, and while initially he’d thought that it was okay, now he wasn’t feeling sure. Sicheng threw a bulbasaur plushie at him, much to Renjun’s distress.

“You’re acting like you’re going on a date or something, it’s just a bunch of dads hanging out, I doubt that they’ll care about what you look like,” his best friend said, as Renjun jumped off the bed to grab his plushie. Kun frowned. Sure, that might be true, but he still wanted to give an impression that he did have everything under control, just like the other two did. Especially Taeyong.

“Papa,” Renjun called out, climbing the bed again to harass Sicheng. That at least made him happy. “just ask Ten, he has friends, so he knows what to wear.” Sicheng snorted, as Renjun threw the bulbasaur plushie back at him. Both his son and best friend were of no help, and he resigned himself to sulking as he went to grab a cup of tea.

He’d tried asking Renjun in the morning, but after his son had chosen an ugly grey thing that he’d acquired from who knows where (Kun should really start cleaning out the closets) that had been the end of that. He sets the kettle on the stove, waiting for the water to come to a boil. Maybe he _should_ ask Ten, but a small part of him still felt pathetic.

As he contemplates, finger hovering over the contact, Taeyong’s name flashes on the screen. Confused, he picks up.

“Hey,” his voice is a little rough, the sound of traffic behind him. “Hey, everything okay?” Kun hopes it’s not bad news.

“Yeah-yeah, I’m fine, just—are you still coming?” Kun hums in reply, “Oh okay, alright. Umm, if you don’t mind too much, I’ll need to bring Mark along; my friend will come pick him up though! So if that’s okay with’-“

“-Taeyong,” he stops the other, a little shell-shocked. “Taeyong, I _understand._ You act like I don’t have a kid too,” that makes the other laugh, and Kun feels himself smile too. “It’s fine, I just hope he doesn’t get bored with us. Doyoung’s still coming?”

“Oh he’ll be fine. And yeah, Doyoung’s not one to miss the chance to drink, so you can expect him even if the sky somehow manages to fall down.”

 _That’s interesting,_ he’d taken the other as someone very uptight, but he’d been proven wrong. He talks a little more, before Taeyong says he’ll have to leave. His kettle starts whistling on the stove, and with Renjun’s screech coupled with Sicheng’s loud laughter suddenly echoing down from the hallway, he let himself relax a little. _It would be fine_ , he reasoned. _Completely fine._

“You look _good,_ ” Doyoung commented, as he slid into the seat opposite him. It was a cosy place, booths lining the corners of the café. The lights weren’t too bright, the noise a minimal as people around them talked and worked. Kun blushed, thanking him before returning the compliment. A long black coat and a beret to match, he looked cute, the oversized clothing making him look smaller.

Kun himself had replaced the blue shirt with a red one, after a message from Ten (‘ _sicheng told me ur being dramatic’_ ). “Taeyong’s not here yet?” he asked, going through the menu Doyoung passed him. “Not yet, he texted he’ll be five minutes late, got caught up in traffic. Mark’s coming too.”

“Oh, he told me about that,” Doyoung hummed, sipping his coffee. “He’s started dance classes, I’m thinking of maybe getting Jeno enrolled in something too, but I’m not sure what.”

 _Dance classes?_ “Is the studio called MOVE?” Doyoung nodded, “you know it?” he asked. Before Kun could reply, Taeyong came in, with a hyper Mark trailing behind him.

“Hi Uncle Doyoung! Hi Uncle Kun!” And Kun’s face immediately lit up. Doyoung ruffled his hair, pulling him next to him, as Taeyong struggled with both his and Mark’s bags. Kun reached out to take some of them, Taeyong shooting him a grateful smile before he sat next to him.

“Sorry for that, did you already order?” Kun shook his head, while Doyoung busied himself in asking Mark questions. His hands were all over the place, animated as he talked about his day at the studio. He looked back at Taeyong, to see him smiling. Yet, it couldn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Umm,” he started off, feeling awkward. _Just talk_ , he chided himself, _the man’s not going to eat you._ “I heard Mark’s taking dance…?”

“Oh!” and Kun can tell Taeyong’s grateful for the topic. “Yeah, he asked me about it the night you and Ten came over, I wasn’t really sure at first, since he’s still adjusting to school and catching up on work—but, I decided to let him attend for a week.” Taeyong runs a hand through his hair, now fading to a soft pastel pink, with the occasional streaks of bleached hair. He was wearing a simple sweater and jeans, but he managed to make even that look fancy.

“He was super happy, and he didn’t let it affect his work at all, so I relented,” Taeyong gives him a small smile, “Ten’s a really good teacher, I’m glad he asked Mark. At home… I mean he plays with Donghyuck, but he needs other people his age, and he’s been opening up much more nowadays, even made a few new friends.”

“But you’re still worried?”

Taeyong nodded, picking his fingers. “It’s a parent’s job to worry, but sometimes I think I do it more than I need to.” Now _that_ , was a sentiment he could get behind. Doyoung prods both of them to order, and despite Kun’s offer, they split the bill. Taeyong does visibly relax as they all continue to talk, and Kun hopes whatever’s on his mind goes away.

Eventually, Taeyong gets a call from his friend, who comes to take Mark home. The man nags him the entire time, bundling him in a scarf and coat before finally sending him off. Doyoung scoffs at the scene. “You’d think he’s sending him off to boarding school or something, not back home.”

Kun just finds it endearing.

It’s the most comfortable he’s felt in weeks, and he tells them much. Doyoung cringes, and Taeyong’s laugh is genuine but awkward.

Yeah, he’s feeling a little silly that he was so nervous about today. It’s only when they start talking about work, do things start getting interesting. Once they finish up their coffees, Doyoung suggests going to a restaurant a few streets down, apparently known for their barbecue. Taeyong and Doyoung bicker over everything, and while it did make Kun feel left out in the beginning, he realizes that’s how they just _work._ Kun interrupts them to talk about the displays as they pass by, Taeyong taking his side while Doyoung would just get teased.

 _This is fun,_ he thinks, and he feels like such an old man at the thought he starts walking faster. _I need a drink._

Unfortunately, Taeyong takes this as a challenge to who would reach the restaurant faster, calling his name before zooming past him. Doyoung and he look at each other in confusion, before taking off themselves, and it’s a _mess,_ but Kun doesn’t think he’s laughed this much in a long while.

“You’re a _what?!_ ”

Doyoung hisses at him, eyes scanning the rest of the tables to see if anyone heard. He pulls both of them upstairs instead, where they can get more privacy.

Taeyong’s face is flushed from the run they had, eyes twinkling under the restaurant’s light. He looks like a kid, and while Kun is still reeling from the revelation, it’s not hard to believe. “A model, yeah,” he says, rubbing his neck. They take a seat at the end, secluded and away from everyone else. He looks… _embarrassed_ , and Kun cannot fathom why.

“That’s…” _amazing? Unexpected? Interesting_? He doesn’t know what exactly to say. Taeyong doesn’t look too thrilled to talk about it, nervously biting his fingers. Doyoung tsks and pulls his hands away. “He gets really insecure about it, because the way people may react.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly realising how his reaction may have come off. “I don’t mean—I don’t think of it badly, don’t worry,” he gives him a smile, “that’s actually pretty impressive. Isn’t it really hectic?”

Taeyong looks at him for a moment, before hesitantly nodding. “It is, I have shows all over the place—especially during fashion week—but it’s also what pays the best and works with my schedule.” Doyoung calls over the waitress, reciting their order. “A lot of people look at it in a bad light, and it doesn’t help that I’m raising two kids alone.”

Kun gets it, in a way. He feels a little bad for him, the added pressure of always looking your best might be a whole another level for Taeyong. “Is that why you moved here?” He asks, “because of a contract or something?”

“Oh, no. I just—needed a change. I lived there my entire life, and it was getting too much, my privacy was threatened to a degree too. With Mark and Donghyuck, I started thinking about where I could give them whatever they needed, where I could give them safety, but also let them do things for their future. I talked to my agent and family, and decided it would be best here. My agency’s really nice,” Taeyong tells him, “they’ve been with me since I first had Mark.”

 _That long?_ “How long has it been?”

Taeyong pouts, counting the years on his fingers. “I think… about thirteen years?” Kun chokes on his spit. Doyoung snorts from the other side. “That’s…a _long_ time.” he finally says, and Taeyong giggles. They change topics after that, more focused towards Kun and Doyoung’s work when it was clear Taeyong still didn’t feel too comfortable in talking about his job. Kun could understand, to a degree. It was the same reason he’d learnt to keep to himself over the years, too tired of proving himself to everybody around him.

The food eventually arrives, and they immediately dig in. He gets a message halfway through from Sicheng, and it’s a bunch of pictures of Renjun dressed in a carrot costume (Kun is not sure he wants to know) posing with a ‘V’. It’s super cute, and Taeyong tells him so when he glances over.

“Alright!” Doyoung claps his hand, “open the fucking cans, it’s _time._ ”

“Kun, you sound _wasted_.”

“No,” he says. “No, _you._ ” And he nearly smashes his head into the table. Doyoung pushes him up with his feet. _He has nice feet,_ Kun thinks, _I should tell him on Thursday._

“I can’t pick you up, unless you want Renjun seeing you like this.” Oh. Oh that was not good. That was not good at all. “No, no, no,” he slurs out, “no, don’t bring him. Bring a ride. I want to go _home_.”

He hears Sicheng sigh. Taeyong is still giggling from his corner, slumped against the wall. He doesn’t even remember what joke he’d said, but it must’ve been really funny if Taeyong is still laughing. “Kun, can’t you get a taxi? I’ll help you up.” _Smart,_ he thinks. He wonders why he hadn’t thought of that. He tells Sicheng okay, and hangs up before he can say anything else.

Doyoung is still playing with the stupid ball game on the table, the one where you have to tilt the box to get the thing in the hole. At least, that’s what Kun thinks he’s doing. He’s not really sure. Doyoung’s hat is wet, though, he’s sure about that.

“You have a ride?” Taeyong whispers to him, eyes wide. When Kun says yes, he gasps. “I do too,” Taeyong tells him, as if he’s sharing a secret. Doyoung glances at them, and pulls himself off the chair, stumbling next to Kun. He presses against him, and now all three of them are squeezed on one seat in the booth. It’s oddly intimate.

“You—you know Yoonoh?” Taeyong asks both of them. They shake their heads. The man then gets lost in thought. It’s fascinating, watching Taeyong stop working before he looks at them again. “You know Jaehyun?”

This time Doyoung nods. “Your crush?” he whispers. Kun’s feeling extremely drowsy. Taeyong nods, a dumb smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, placing his head on the table. He’s playing with his fingers, and it reminds Kun of a lovesick school girl. “He said—he said ‘I’ll come, tell me where you are’”. Taeyong is now full on blushing, hands coming to cover his face. Kun and Doyoung both squeal; romance was always exciting.

“So-so, you told him to come?” Kun asks, voice low so no one could hear them. He had to protect Taeyong, the man was a _model_ , what would happen if the media got to know?!

Taeyong looks at them again, the dumb smile still there. “No,” he giggles, “I gave him the wrong address.”

Kun and Doyoung both look at each other, apparently reading each other’s minds. They both look back at Taeyong, Doyoung leaning on Kun as he slaps Taeyong’s arm with a leaf. “You _idiot,_ ” he hisses, and they both ask in unison: “ _why?_ ”

“Because I don’t deserve his love,” and Taeyong starts to cry. Oh no. This wasn’t going too well. Maybe they should’ve been nicer? Kun hugs him, in a moment of panic. “No, you do, you do, Yoonjae-” Doyoung whispers in his ear, “- _Jaehyun,_ yes, Jaehyun, you deserve it—no, him. You deserve _him._ ”

Taeyong just clutches on to him, weeping silently. It breaks his heart for some reason. Doyoung gives him a chocolate. They both watch him as he eats it. While he doesn’t stop crying, he does slow it down. _Buy him chocolates,_ Kun thinks, patting Taeyong’s head, _lots of chocolates._

Taeyong’s phone suddenly rings, and Doyoung dives to take it. It’s Jaehyun, and Kun hears the poor man’s confused voice on the other end. Doyoung tells him the name of the restaurant, warning him about Taeyong’s state. Once it ends, Taeyong is still weeping, but only a few tears at a time. “I don’t deserve it,” he tells Kun, when Doyoung calls Sejeong to ask her where she was, “he’s has so much life left, and me? I have two boys of my own; I’m busy all the time. There’s nothing there to see, or to offer.” Something about the tone in which Taeyong talks about himself makes his nerves prick.

“ _You_ have so much life left,” he tells him, frown in place, “and look at you, you look like you have so much to give too. You’re made to love, Taeyong,” and Kun fully believes the words. Taeyong looks at him, mouth slightly agape. Kun just hugs him again.

“Me too,” he hears Doyoung say, “I wanna’— _move your foot Kun_ —I wanna’ hug too.” And he throws himself on to them, making them groan. Kun finds himself not minding though, as Taeyong starts to sleep on his shoulder, while Doyoung talks to him about the new drama he’d been following. Kun feels safe like this, tucked in between both of them, talking away about miscellaneous things, without a care in the world.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun says, pulling Taeyong up against him. He has a nice smile; pretty dimples in place. He’s handsome too, and Kun feels like he needs a checklist to make sure Jaehyun’s nice enough for him. Sejeong had come a few minutes ago, laughing as she pulled her husband to their car. He’d hugged Kun, tightly, before he’d left.

“No problem,” Kun says, trying to act composed. He watches Jaehyun collect the rest of Taeyong’s things, shoving them into his bag haphazardly. But when he leans Taeyong against him, holding him upright by his shoulders, his hands are gentle.

 _He loves him,_ Kun thinks, and it’s so blatantly obvious he wants to laugh. Jaehyun looks at Taeyong like there could nothing more precious for his sight to behold, for his care to be for. He wonders how simple it was, for one’s feeling to so easily bleed on to the surface, through every action, through every little gaze, through every word. Taeyong mumbles something, and Jaehyun smiles, and it’s so intimate Kun has to look away.

He thanks him one more time, asking if he needed a ride. “I’ll be fine,” Kun told him, waving them goodbye.

Kun checks the time, a little over ten pm. He walks out, the cold night air greeting him. The streets were pretty like this, Kun thought, brimming with life. He walks, for a while, stumbling occasionally, but mostly fine. The trees have already changed their colours, the ground littered with reds, browns, and yellows.

Kun takes a seat on a bench, leaning against it as he closed his eyes. The air felt refreshing; _calming._ He takes his phone out, going to his gallery and scrolling all the way down. It’s mesmerizing, the different points of his life captured in this little thing in his hand. He scrolls through them all, Renjun’s toothless smile making him feel some type of way. There’s Sicheng, his face covered in cake after they’d pushed his head down on it. There’s some from his office, mainly Yukhei and his never-ending love for selfies. He remembers the party last year; the selfies he’d taken with his colleagues, with some of the interns too. There’s Jungwoo, who’d forced him to join the group photo. He’d made everybody get together a whole hour early, just so he could be in the photo too. It’s framed now, hangs in the reception area, because their boss was too sappy for his own good.

He scrolls forwards, Renjun getting older as he does so. It’s so fascinating, and it both makes his heart grow with fondness and ache at the same time, watching his baby growing up. There’re newer ones, with Donghyuck, with Jeno, with Taeyong and Doyoung.

And then, there’s Ten.

Ten with his cats, Ten with Kun, with Renjun, with Sicheng. Ten’s selfies, his little drawings on Renjun’s hands every time they painted together. Ten and his failed attempts at cooking, the pictures he sent out of desperation asking Kun for help. Ten with all of his bubbly self, his clumsiness, the little whiskers he got every time he laughed. Little things, that had slowly made themselves familiar in his life, as though they were always meant to be there.

Before he can think twice, he dials his number. 

“Hey,” Ten’s voice comes through, and Kun giggles. Ten asks him how he is, but Kun just feels too giddy to answer.

“Kun—are you—Are you _drunk_?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice when Kun doesn’t reply. “Yeah,” he whispers, “’m drunk on memories.”

Ten laughs, so free and uncaring that it makes Kun want to laugh too. “Okay,” he says slowly, “are you outside?” Kun hums, watching as a cat comes under the bench, nuzzling into his shoe. He wants to sleep right then and there; surrounded by pretty leaves and fairy lights, the cat, and Ten’s voice.

“Do you need me to order a taxi?” Kun bends down to scratch the creature, shaking his head. He then realises Ten can’t see him. “No, no,” he says, voice low so the cat doesn’t run away, “no, just you—just need you.”

He doesn’t notice as the line falls silent. The cat purrs, and Kun feels irrevocably happy, the black and white fur reminding him of cookies. _I’ll name you Oreo_ , he thinks, the cat now jumping up to sit next to him. It’s small, but awfully friendly. Kun wonders if it’s a stray.

“Ten…?” He asks, once the silence stretches on. _Oh no, did Kun bore him away?_

“No, yeah, I’m here,” he says, and Kun smiles. All was okay, after all. “Where are you?” Ten asks, and Kun has to read the sign on the restaurant twice before he can tell him. “Alright, I’m getting you a taxi. It’ll be…-let me check-It’ll be there in ten minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Kun says, “don’t hang up.” The cat continues to purr, eyes closing as he scratches its head. “I won’t,” Ten promises, so soft Kun can barely even hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this chapter is more filler, ig? idk how to feel but im mostly satisfied with how it turned out. also i think im going to be starting a jaeyong fic from this universe soon too, so look forward to that ig lmao
> 
> thank you so much for reading and the lovely comments!!! I hope you enjoyed the update <3


	10. Chapter 10

“When did you come back?” he asks. He tries to keep his voice light, but that slither of coldness always managed to slip through. Yiyang keeps her hands around the cup, eyes looking anywhere but him.

“Just a few weeks ago, I’m here for a job assignment,” Kun hums in reply. Kun leans back a little into his chair, bringing his own coffee to his lips before taking a sip, his eyes drawn to the view outside. The skies have become darker, the roads lined with trees shedding a palette of leaves. There are a few Halloween decorations here and there, and people line the streets and pavements.

“I saw Renjun, at the park the other day—Ten, wasn’t it? He seemed really nice.” And he can’t figure out what is it in her tone that pricks his nerves. “He is, he’s been helping out with Renjun for a while, it was starting to get really hard to juggle everything. Work, home, and him—I was stretched thin.” He admits. She looks at him, this time, eyes opening wider.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. The whole interaction feels so painfully awkward and forced he wants to laugh, but he’d come here for a reason, and he wasn’t going to leave without finishing it. “It’s just—,” she starts again, looking away, “I didn’t really think you’d allow someone near our Jun— _Renjun,_ again,” she bites her lip, before going back to her cup.

Kun contemplates over what to say. Truthfully, he never thought he would either. After the whole incident at the train station, he’d had enough of strangers being trusted with his son. Sicheng was practically family anyways, and his parents were willing to come over whenever he needed (not that he ever did call them, no wonder his mother had been so annoyed).

But the past few months have taught him that he can’t always try to do everything on his own, no matter how much he wanted to. Kun was only human, after all.

“Well,” he starts, for a lack of better words, “Sicheng was the one who told me to contact him. I had my doubts but… Ten’s really good with him, and Renjun absolutely adores hum. He’s… he’s a really nice guy,” Kun says, and he feels something weird tangle itself in his chest. Yiyang scoffs.

“He’s still a stranger, Kun,” she says, “don’t you read the news? They start by getting all nice-“

“-I don’t think I’ll be taking parenting advice from someone who abandoned their child for a date,” he snaps, and it shuts her up immediately. A tense silence falls on both of them. _Great job,_ he thinks, _so much for keeping it under control._

“Look,” Yiyang says, a few beats later, “I know what I did what terrible—“

“—more like _inhumane—_ “

“— _but_ , I-I get it now, okay? I broke up with him, a few months after that. I didn’t think it through back then, all I wanted was an escape. Everything was so tiring all the time, you were so distant— _please,_ Kun, just let me get this out first— and everything had grown so _stale._ I didn’t want it anymore. I missed the fun, I missed the days we would go out at random time of the night, to the cheap restaurants nearby because we were too broke to afford anything else. I missed the times when you would— _we,_ would talk, any moment we could. When we could be in love, when we weren’t bind to either here or there. I missed my work, my life, before it all. I missed the thrill of it all, as immature as it sounds.”

She takes a deep breath in, before continuing. “I admit, I wasn’t the happiest that we were going to have a kid at first. That would just mean even less time to us. But I grew to love him, Kun, I really did—I _still_ do, but…but it just wasn’t _enough,”_ and Kun wants to get up and leave, wants to abandon her and her sorry excuses, her words that cut into his flesh and travel through him, sinking letter by letter; that their son was _not enough_ —that Renjun, the boy who held the stars in his eyes, the brightness of the sun in his smile _just_ _wasn’t enough_ , but—he doesn’t. He hates it, he hates that’s what she has to say to him, after all these years, hates that it’s not as remorseful as he’d maybe hoped, hates that it means so many things that flit through his mind one after the other. He wants to leave the café and _scream_ , because his son deserved the world and more, deserved every good thing that the world had to offer, that Kun could not give him no matter how much he’d try.

He hates that he gets it, to a certain degree. Not all of it, but a small portion. He still doesn’t forgive her, the memory a leech that had etched itself in the crevices of his mind and heart. Kun feels his throat constrict with how much he wants to say, but can’t let himself to.

_Love isn’t always enough_ , he’s reminded once again, his lawyer’s voice crisp in his ears.

“Did you ever try?” he settles for, all the fight leaving him. Yiyang is quiet, staring at her fingers before she finally whispers, “I don’t know, Kun. I—I think I did, but maybe not as much as I should have.”

Kun shuts his eyes, nodding before taking a deep breath. He doesn’t know how long it is, until he finally garners the effort to ask her what he had come for. “What do you want, Yiyang?”

“I wanted to see Renjun—and before you tell me, I already have a feeling he doesn’t want to see me.” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair. They slip through like silk, just like they always did. “Just, maybe consider asking him? Just a dinner or something, but if he says no I’ll understand. I’m—I’m leaving this weekend,” and at Kun’s blank look, she elaborates, “I’m leaving for good, I think.”

This gets his interest. “I thought—I thought maybe you wanted to …” _come back? Be a part of his life?_ Kun’s not sure himself. 

She smiles at him, a glossy sheen over her eyes. “No, don’t worry. I…I don’t think I’m ready to be a mom. I’m not really sure I’ll ever be, actually,” she bites her lip again, nervous, “and I know my reasons were childish; they are. I was—I was in the wrong, that night. I don’t even know what I was thinking, to leave Jun there, why I thought it was okay. I…my parents talked some sense into me, and that’s when I finally left him, and got my old job back. I maybe his mother, but Kun, I don’t think I can ever be his Ma.”

He looks at her, her shoulders hunched forward. She looks different, in the way that there are no longer the same eye bags that carried weeks of sleepless nights in them; in the way that her cheeks seem more full, her face more lively. Kun looks at her, and realizes, that he needs to let whatever they were, go. He looks at her, and realizes, they’re both no longer the people they used to be.

“Okay,” Kun tells her, “and I won’t expect you to be either.”

*

“Papa?”

Kun hums, letting Renjun climb next to him on the sofa. He burrows into his side, watching as Kun types away. His eyes follow the movement of his fingers, transfixed. They stay like that for a good few minutes, before Kun finishes up and turns the laptop off, pushing his sliding glasses back up his nose.

“You okay, Junnie?” Renjun hums, playing with the sticker on top of his laptop. It’s sparkly, something Ten and Renjun had made together the day before. “Hyuckie was sad today.”

“Yeah?” he says, feeling mildly concerned, “and why is that?” Renjun shrugs, a pout in place. “I don’t know, he didn’t tell,” Kun wonders briefly if he should text Taeyong about it, but soon pushes the thought aside. Maybe he’d had a fight with Mark, maybe he was upset about something else, the same way Renjun had the occasional bad days every now and then. He tells Renjun much, and while his son doesn’t bring it up again, Kun can see he’s still not entirely convinced.

Renjun climbs into his bed too, later at night, when he’s half-asleep and confused why his blanket had decided to start moving on its own. Kun hums a song to him, one that he used to play all the time when Renjun was younger. He watches his son’s eyes slowly droop close, his breathing evening out, as he surrendered to slumber. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his words swallowed by the darkness and heard only by the walls around them.

He feels a knot that had made itself so comfortable, Kun had forgotten it had even existed at all, unwind, and finally, let loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's pretty short compared to the last few, but i think its a good place to end it here for now. it feels...wrong(?) adding something more. I wanted to just show kun finally getting closure and actually moving on, once he realises that both yiyang and jun already have, and i hope this chapter was able to convey that ;;;;-;;;
> 
> as always, thank you for reading!! your comments mean a lot to me, so thank you for taking the time to write them <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first half is lowkey crack treated seriously cause why not. also it is finally time to unleash the tropes, we are heading to what i hope is romantic territory idk akjfsfasdfghjk

Kun trudged out the elevator, shoulders hurting from all the desk work he had today. He’d been glued to the seat even through break, but as much as it had felt rewarding back then to finish earlier than his usual time, his grumbling stomach had to disagree.

He tried his key in the lock, frowning when it didn’t turn. Kun took a step back, making sure he was at the right apartment (there have been far too many instances for him to be _not_ paranoid) and tried it again. He pressed the doorbell, waiting as he leaned against the door. Everything _hurt_ , and all Kun wanted to do was jump into a steaming shower at least relax some of his muscles before falling asleep tonight.

Just as he contemplated pressing the bell again, the door open, Kun nearly falling forward before he stood up straight just in time.

“You’re here early,” Ten said, a confused but welcome smile on his face, “Renjun’s going to have a field day.”

*

There are certain things, that are facts of life. You know they don’t change, and you know you can’t make them change either. It is, what it is, as they say.

But _goodness_ , Kun could just not take it anymore.

The thing is, Ten is _loud,_ and annoying when he wants to be. Renjun is _also_ loud, _and_ can be annoying when he wants to be. The two of them together are a fatal combination, and Kun prays to anyone who would listen to spare him the slightest of mercy.

“You _lost_ ,” he emphasizes, “fair and square. Game’s over, Ten.”

“ _Game’s over, Ten,_ ” Renjun mimicked under his breath, and Kun wanted to stuff a cake in his mouth. Ten merely grumbled, moving his piece away from the board. They were playing some odd board game Ten had managed to haggle from his roommate, and Kun has never felt more _abandoned._ His own son doesn’t even take his side, proposing a final all or nothing game the moment Ten loses.

“You should be kind, Papa,” Renjun says, and Kun feels like he’s being placated. By a _five year old._

Ten sticks his tongue out at him, before setting the game up again. None of them know the rules, since those are written in what Renjun has proclaimed French but Kun is too unbothered to check. He _knows_ Ten is bullshitting his way through it, and Renjun is buying it because well; he’s Ten.

“No Kun, if you roll a six you _die_ ,” Ten tsks, “so like, you’re out.”

“No, I’m not,” and Kun pulls out a yellow uno reverse card. Renjun gasps, dropping his cookie on the carpet (Kun might cry if he looked at _that_ mess any longer). Ten is visibly confused, and a moment later, Kun comes to a stunning realization. “You don’t know what this is,” he says, and oh, he really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but he just can’t help the smile that’s beginning to grow on his face, “would you look at that, Ten doesn’t know what this is.”

Renjun looks just as appalled, “ _everyone_ knows, Ten!” he tells him, cookie now on the board, crumb both on his son’s shirt and on Kun’s nerves.

He watches the two of them, amused, as Ten tries to justify himself to the unrelenting force that is Renjun. Kun gets a tissue in the meantime, cleaning the mess, and just as he stands to throw it out, he catches Ten’s eyes. The man shoots him a glare, and Kun laughs, watching as he tackles Renjun so the boy could stop his questions.

And it’s so _noisy_ ; Renjun’s excited squeals, Ten’s voice trying to be loud enough so Renjun can actually hear him over said squeals, and both their peals of laughter ringing through the apartment, loud and clear even when Kun enters the kitchen. It’s pure chaos; and yet, Kun feels nothing, but a layer of calm settle on his heart.

*

“Why do you even carry that around?” Ten grumbles, opening the fridge. Kun places aside Renjun’s lunch box (he has now gained a pink sticker that was supposedly given by Jaemin) and wipes his hand on the towel. Ten’s hair is an utter disaster, no doubt from the tussle earlier with Renjun.

“Oh? My coworker accidentally left a few cards behind, we were playing during lunch,” Ten raised a brow. “What?”

“And how does Renjun know about it?” Kun let out a sigh; exasperated. Ten truly was so clueless at times, “no son of mine is growing up without learning _uno_ , Ten. Granted, Renjun still doesn’t get the point of the game, but at least he knows his cards—or, I _think_ he does,” Kun frowned, “he loves yellow though, that’s for sure.”

Ten snorted, “okay,” he said, “whatever you say, old man.”

“I am literally _two_ _month_ older—“

“—doesn’t change the fact you’re a _dad_ ,” Ten shivered, “no wonder all your jokes suck.”

“You say that as if you’re any better.”

“Hey, Renjun laughs at my jokes!”

“Renjun laughs at everything, that’s not an accomplishment,” Ten huffs before opening the bottle of juice, and chugging it down. His sleeves fall lower, and Kun’s eyes linger on his arm.

He tears his gaze away, as Ten places the half empty bottle back. “Come here,” he says, and when Ten walks closer, Kun runs his fingers through his hair, smoothing it back down. Ten stiffens, but he doesn’t move away. It’s soft to the touch, black strands that just seem to be getting longer each time Kun sees him. He’s reminded once again of the few inches he has on the other, and it makes him feel a tad bit victorious.

“Your hair—just wanted to fix it,” Kun murmurs, when the silence between them stretches. There’s a dusting of red that climbs his neck; Kun notices, amused.

“Yeah, okay” Ten says, clearing his throat. He takes a step back, eyes looking anywhere but him.

“I’m back!” Renjun comes chiming in; smile bright as he runs in the kitchen, immediately putting both his arms up. “Look! I washed my hands!”

*

The alarm rings, disturbing the silence of his room. Kun groans, shifting under his blankets, until he finally shuts the thing off. Renjun’s break has already started, but Kun unfortunately still has work. He pushes off the covers, his body aching again. He’d taken a painkiller last night, but it seemed the relief was temporary.

Kun trudged towards Renjun’s room, the boy fast asleep, the blanket somehow on the floor. He chuckled, entering and nearly stepping on a logo. _That was close_ ; the last thing he wanted was another infortune to ruin his day. He dragged the blanket back on Renjun, pushing back the hair on his forehead. It was starting to get long, and Kun dreaded cutting it. Renjun _hated_ scissors anywhere near him.

He tried eating breakfast, a bowl of cereal and milk, but only managed a little so early in the morning. It was calm, mornings like these, and though Kun would usually find a solace in them, he felt a little empty instead.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Before Kun could dwell on it any longer, he cleaned up the dishes, and went to wash himself up.

*

“You okay?” Jungwoo’s eyes were imploring, glancing at the hand Kun currently had on his neck.

“Yeah, just some body pain. Guess I _am_ getting old,” he chuckled, as Jungwoo tsked before sitting next to him. He hadn’t noticed when lunch had started, until Jungwoo had barged into his office to whisk him away to the cafeteria. “You’re not old, Kun, you just need some rest.”

Jungwoo added a few pieces of his own meat to his plate, despite Kun’s protests. They ate in silence for a while, the chatter of people around enough to keep them company. He’d known Jungwoo for a couple of years, but never really had the chance to truly get to know him. They were in different departments, and the only time they talked was during lunch. Jungwoo seemed to always have a soft spot for him (though Kun wonders how much of that has been contributed by Renjun), always trying to include and look out for him, despite being the younger one of the two.

“Yukhei asked me out,” and Kun nearly spat out his rice. “ _What_?” He manages, after finally swallowing his food down, “when? How? Did you say yes? Are you two dating?”

“Slow down, damn,” Jungwoo laughed. “I told him I’ll think about, but honestly I’m not sure. He’s still my intern, I don’t want it to interfere with either one of our work,” and Kun watched as Jungwoo sighed, pausing his movements. “It’s also been a while, you know? I know I joke around a lot, but Yukhei seems to be a pretty popular guy, I’m kinda’ scared I’ll get attached and he’ll realize I’m not who he thought I was.”

Kun’s first instinct was to immediately reprimand him. After all, Jungwoo’s mere presence alone was enough to lighten the entire office. Whether it be their occasional office parties, their team dinners, Jungwoo was always there, ready to bring up the atmosphere, ready to be there for someone else, help anyone who looked like they were in need.

 _But_ …

Kun thought it over, before he spoke his thoughts aloud. Jungwoo was human, just like he was. After all, people always tended to forget the brighter the light, the more energy it required. “How about,” he started instead, “you just take it slow, hmm? No dating or anything, just—talking? Get to know each other, especially out of work, and see where it goes from there. He only has a few months left here anyway.”

“True,” Jungwoo said. “Better to take a risk, than to regret never taking a chance, huh?”

And there’s something about the words, that strike something within him. “Yeah,” Kun mumbles, going back to his food, “yeah, true.”

*

“Papa!” Renjun said, latching on to him the moment he entered home. He smiled, hugging Renjun close. His hair smelt like strawberries, and Kun pecked his forehead before removing the boy to take off his jacket and shoes.

“Did Uncle Sicheng come over today?”

Renjun nodded, running back into the living room once the familiar tune of his favourite show started playing from the living room. Kun peeked in after he was done, to find a bunch of papers littered on the floor. He walked in, crouching to observe them, chuckling at the drawings Renjun made. Renjun paid him no mind, invested on whatever the girl on screen was saying, as Kun gathered them in place instead of leaving them scattered.

It’s not until he finds one different from the rest, does he call out Renjun’s name. “Who made this, sweetie?” Kun’s eyes roam over it, intricate designs weaving at sharp angles to make whatever it was; an abstract piece, almost.

“Ten! He has a drawing on his arm, so I told him to make me one too.” _Ofcourse_ , it seemed like a not a day went by until he heard of Ten at least once. The design was beautiful though, so Kun kept it apart from the rest, as to not let it get ruined.

Once he’d washed up, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, drying his hair first. Just as he pulled on the hoodie, a pang of pain went up his side, making him wince before pulling it all the way down. He downed another painkiller, and hoped for the best.

Kun pushed around the food on his plate, his appetite dwindling into nothing. He tried watching a few videos on his phone, but even that didn’t help his mood; or even spark an ounce of hunger. Eventually, he threw the little he had heated up for himself away, busying himself with loading the washing machine and then the dishwasher.

Everything _hurt_ , and Kun could not fathom why. He hadn’t even been going to the gym in the past two weeks, so it couldn’t be that either. After drinking a glass of water, he made his way to his room, groaning when he realized the lights were still on. He just felt so _tired_ , the blanket under him soft and cold, and soon, Kun was out like a light.

*

If Kun felt bad the night before, he was feeling like utter _shit_ today.

The moment he’d woken up, he just _knew_. The stars were _not_ aligned in his favour, his body _ached_ , and he woke up with sweat matting his forehead. Kun had immediately called in sick for work, and collapsed back in bed, snuggling under the blankets. He reached out for his bottle, only to find it empty, and nearly sobbed before picking himself up and getting a refill.

He knew there was some fever medication somewhere in his drawer, but he just felt so lethargic, he climbed back into bed, and fell asleep once again.

“Hmpgh,” he mumbled. The shaking continued, this time accompanied by a whine. It took a while for him to peel his eyes open, and when he did, he was face to face with Renjun.

Oh _god_ , how was he going to take care of _Renjun_?

Renjun pressed his hand to Kun’s forehead, just like Kun did to him whenever he was sick, frowning. “You’re really warm, Papa,” he said, worry clearly lacing his voice. He wondered what he looked like, because he felt like he’d been run over at least six times by three different types of cars. His heart warmed a little though, to see his son so concerned over him. But Kun had to keep him away, or else he’d catch it too.

“Junnie,” he croaked out, and _wow_ , Kun’s throat felt like sandpaper. “Baby, stay away from me, okay? Or else—or else you’ll get sick too.” Renjun pouted, clearly distressed, but sat a little farther away nonetheless. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and when Renjun shook his head no, telling him to ‘just sleep, Papa’, Kun’s heart has never been more full of love for his son.

“Can you get me some water?” he asked instead, and Renjun jumped off immediately, haphazardly taking the bottle Kun opened. Just as he left the room, he got his phone, squinting at the light. He typed a message out to Taeyong, asking whether Renjun could come over. It only took a minute before the reply came, a small ‘ _ofcourse!_ ’.

**Taeyong(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** **･ﾟ✧**

_need me to pick him up?_

**Kun** **ʕ •** **ᴥ** **• ʔ**

_yes please_

_as early as you can if you don’t mind_

_oh okay_

_did something happen_

_i’m sick T-T_

Renjun comes back in, water sloshing precariously because of how full it is. Kun thanks him, drinking it despite the horrid feeling in his throat.

*

“Oh, Taeyong, you really didn’t have to.” 

Taeyong brushed him off. “Nonsense, I bet you haven’t even eating anything yet.” And Kun remained silent, as Taeyong placed the boxes of food he’d brought. No wonder it took a while longer than it usually did. There were a total of five lunch boxes, two filled with soup and three with normal but light food. “Take your medicine,” Taeyong scolded, and Kun could only comply, swallowing down the tablet he’d found.

“Apa! We’re ready!” Came Mark’s voice from the doorway. Taeyong fussed over him some more, telling him to put on some socks because of how cold the floors were getting, reminding him to switch on the heater so the water wasn’t cold. Kun felt like he was being coddled by his mother, with how much nagging Taeyong was doing—even until he entered the elevator.

Renjun had been a little down, but Mark has assured him that he would take care of him, and if Kun wasn’t a walking piece of virus, he’d squeeze the life out of the boy because he was just so sweet.

It left a warm feeling in his chest, one that he held close until he laid down on the couch. He should really eat something; maybe drink some of the soup Taeyong gave. Kun should really get up, but his body refused to cooperate. He was suffering. He wished he was not human, and just a plant. Kun shook his head at the thought. The fever was making him lose his mind.

He sat there, mind a little hazy. He’d taken two more painkillers before Taeyong had arrived, and in hindsight it did not seem like quite a bright idea. His phone buzzed, and Kun struggled to find it, nearly screaming until he realised it was near his feet.

He couldn’t quite read the name, his eyes watery. Eventually he gave up and pressed the call button instead, too mentally exhausted to decipher what the message said.

“ _Hey! Didn’t expect you to call._ ” He laughed, and oh, it was _Ten_.

“Ten,” he croaked out, “it’s you.”

“ _Yeah, it’s me_ ,” Ten chuckled, “ _are you okay? You sound like you’re crying._ ”

“No, just sick,” he sniffed, “and I feel like my body is trying to destroy myself. Taeyong just came over too, I sent Renjun away so he wouldn’t catch it.”

“ _Did you eat anything_?” when Kun didn’t answer, Ten sighed. “ _You know you need to eat and drink enough, right? This is exactly why you fell sick.”_

They talked a little more, until Ten had to leave. Kun felt an odd sense of loss, ending the call and coming back to a room devoid of sound, of anyone other than him. He trudged towards the kitchen to heat up the soup. He brought a spoonful to his lips, eyes widening at the taste. He took a sip, then another, and slurped until he’d emptied the bowl. The soup was _delicious_ ; Kun had to ask Taeyong for the recipe. It reminded of his mother’s broths, the warmth and care she poured into each one. Taeyong had been nothing but a stranger a few months ago, but here he was, now making Kun delicious soup and helping out in little ways he could. It touched him, to have such friends in his life.

 _Friends_ , it felt like a foreign word, one he had not used in quite a few years (Sicheng did not count. They were bound together till the day they died). He plopped on to the sofa, drinking some water before passing out once again. It was dreamless sleep, one that finally let him rest.

“-un? Hey, Kun, wake _up._ ”

Kun groaned, shifting before he realised he was on the sofa, pulling back just before he toppled over. He blearily opened his eyes; Ten’s concerned face greeting him.

_Wait a minute._

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been calling?! Taeyong called to check up on you, and when you didn’t pick up, he called me.” Kun grappled for his phone, wincing at the number of missed calls. His body had never felt so utterly weak, as he tried sitting up. “We’ve been worried sick, I thought something happened so I came over as soon as I could and—any-anyways, you were just here, _sleeping_.”

He’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but Ten’s face seems a little too red than usual. He presses his own hand against the man’s neck. Ten pauses, face inches above him. _Pretty,_ Kun thinks, a thin necklace around his neck, a few earrings lining his ears.

“Kun,” Ten whispers, “You’re burning up. Did you check your temperature?”

He shakes his head, and Ten clicks his tongue, asking for where the thermometer is. Once he comes back, he places it in his mouth, checking it after it beeps. Ten’s eyes widen, “holy shit, _40 degrees?!_ Kun, oh my god, did you not take your meds?!”

He clearly remembers taking them in the morning. He tells Ten as much, who reads the pamphlet before huffing. “Kun these are for _stomach ache_ , you dumb ass,” and Kun wants to press a finger between Ten’s eyebrows, so his frown can go away.

Ten mumbles something, but Kun is too dopey to catch it. He glances at the window outside, the world shrouded in darkness. He looks back to find Ten heading to the kitchen and Kun prays that he doesn’t get any ideas, for Kun cannot do shit when he’s like this.

It’s a while later, that Ten comes, ushering him towards his room. It takes some effort, but eventually he settles under his blanket. It feels oddly nice—to be fussed over—as Ten brings a wet towel to place it on his head, the cold sensation sending shivers down his spine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” Kun slurs, and Ten scoffs.

“Of course I do, I get fevers too, you know. So does my roommate, he’s a big baby so I end up having to look after him,” he rummages through the box of medicine, “It seems like I’m stuck with the same fate here,” Ten laments, but his voice is... _fond_?

Kun watches him read through a few other tablets, and finally finds the one he needs. “Here,” he says, holding a glass of water. Kun downs it, and he’s slightly disappointed he doesn’t instantly feel better.

“What do you need?” Ten then asks, once Kun’s done and lying back on the bed. There’s genuine concern on his face, watching him carefully. Ten’s eyes were sharp—Kun noticed, when he’d be busy playing around, but now, they seem to soften as he gazes at him, awaiting his response.

Kun wants to stay _you_ —just to be cheesy— but it comes out as “chicken.” Ten laughs, hitting his arm lightly. “Okay, umm, I’ll get you some when you get better, okay? My treat.”

Kun hums, watching him. His arm’s exposed today, and Kun’s eyes immediately draw towards them.

Ten follows his line of sight. “Oh, I got a tattoo a while back,” he says, voice mixed with a hint of insecurity. Kun wants to chase it all away, for the ink on his skin looks like a work of art, something so utterly _him_ , that he can’t resist the urge to trace his fingers along it. Ten stiffens, but Kun pays him no mind, too busy taking it all in. It covers a good portion of his arm, making him wonder how much it must’ve hurt.

“Beautiful,” he breathes out, his voice dropping to a minimum. The moment feels delicate, somehow; as though if he were to speak too loudly, it’ll break and fall apart, shattering into pieces. Ten doesn’t say anything, and when Kun looks up, he’s already looking back at him. “You should get one too,” Ten tells him, “a small one, maybe.”

Kun nods, his face smushed into the pillow. “Maybe,” he repeats. He wonders where he’ll get it, wonders what he’ll get, wonders if he asks nicely enough, would Ten make one for him. Ten runs his fingers through his hair, and soon, Kun finds himself drifting off. “Stay,” he mumbles, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice, “please”.

He doesn’t remember what Ten says, eyes slipping shut before he could hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 4:33 am idek who i am anymore asdsfs;j i have a test so i still have to studyyy ;;;;-;;;;; pls pray for me and drop a comment/kudos if you liked it! Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

It was somewhere between the first rays of sunlight spilling into his room, and the darkness of the night finally leaving, that Kun woke up. He pulled himself up, fumbling to find his water bottle before taking a few sips, his body still on fire. It was cool; the water sliding down his throat, and after he finally placed it back, he leaned against the headrest, feeling groggy.

It’s a few seconds later, that he realizes someone’s slumped over the bed too.

Kun could make out Ten’s head pillowed in his arms, his back rising and falling with each breath. Ten’s face was smushed on the side, but he could still make out the slope of his nose, his eyes shut as he slept away. _He stayed,_ and the thought filled him with something he couldn’t quite understand, didn’t know if he wanted to. It’s a mixture of warmth and fondness, and something more, something that he didn’t think he was ready to face quite yet.

Kun slipped back into his covers, eyes trained on the other, and eventually drifted off again.

*

When Kun finally went back to the office four days later, he’s met with a stack of files, nearing deadlines, and meetings to plan in the coming week.

Kun groaned, hiding his face in his hands. It would take him a few late nights to catch up on everything in time, if he didn’t want any of it to spill over into the weekends. Those were the few days he was at home with Renjun, and he wasn’t going to let them be swaddled in work too. He could hear Yukhei snicker beside him, and he threw him a glare, before finally getting started.

He didn’t know how absorbed he’d become until Yukhei tapped him. “It’s lunch,” and indeed, when Kun looked at the time, it certainly was. Most of the office was empty, already headed to the break rooms and cafeteria. With only the sound of the air conditioner accompanying him, Kun contemplated skipping, for he always tended to work faster when he was alone. Just as he went to tell Yukhei to go without him, he paused.

He couldn’t keep doing this, he reminded himself. The past few days were enough of a reason to start taking care of himself more, even if it meant taking a few minutes away from work.

“Alright,” he said, standing and grapping his jacket, “let’s go.”

“Hey,” he nudged Yukhei, who seemed awfully absorbed in sneaking glances at a certain someone across the café. It took him a few seconds, before he realized, and gave Kun a sheepish smile. “Yeah?”

“Nothing,” Kun said, pushing the food around his plate, voice careful, “just, did you ask Jungwoo out?”

He mildly regretted the question, as Yukhei’s smile immediately dimmed. “I did but…I don’t really think he’s that interested in me. He probably thinks I’m immature or something, but he did say he’ll think about it,” he laughed, but the sound was hollow. Kun gave him a pat on the back, before thinking his next words over.

“I think he might just be scared, you know,” at Yukhei’s puzzled face, he elaborated, “I mean, he’s been working non-stop the past few years, and that’s definitely paid off now, but that also meant he hasn’t had a lot of time to himself either,” he gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “don’t be so quick to put yourself down, he just needs to figure this whole thing out, and who knows, maybe it might work out.”

Yukhei looked back to the front of the cafeteria, his eyes trained on Jungwoo as he joked with the cooks, smile bright and voice even brighter. Kun couldn’t help but internally coo, as the boy lowered his gaze back on his plate, smile shy.

Kun ended up leaving later than he planned, a last-minute emergency keeping him for an hour over his usual shift. His boss assured him he’ll be compensated for, but it still managed to sour his mood somewhat, considering he had been planning to be stricter with his office hours after Renjun’s outburst. He pulled his car in the parking lot; wishing time would stop ticking so fast as he glanced at his car’s clock.

He made it to his elevator, pressing his floor, before anxiously tapping his feet away. Ten would have probably left by now, which would mean Renjun would be alone by himself. He could hardly take care of him the past few days when he’d been sick, relying mainly on Sicheng and Ten, and occasionally the boy going over to Donghyuck’s to play. He quickened his pace, as he approached his flat, trying in the key in the lock. The moment he opened his door, the only sound he was greeted with was that of the television, even after Kun waited a few seconds.

He laced off his shoes, hanging his coat and bag, before taking a deep breath in. He hoped to god that Renjun wouldn’t be too angry, because an angry Renjun was not only fatally adorable, but also stubborn as hell. He prepared his heart, and walked into the living room. Just as he called out his name, Kun blinked, before rubbing his eyes again.

There on the couch, laid both Renjun _and_ Ten, fast asleep. Kun just stood there, taking in the sight for a few seconds, and came to the realization that all that preparation had been for naught. His heart had still managed to overflow and bubble with fondness, and he was sure he going to melt right there and become one with the floor.

He couldn’t help but laugh quietly, approaching the two. Renjun’s nestled in Ten’s arms, his hands fisting on to the other’s sweater. It’s so cute, Kun wanted to cry, but alas, he had to keep it together. He’d been worried over nothing. He left them be, before going to clean up, switching off the television as he did.

When he got out of the shower, he could hear noises from the living room, particularly Renjun’s whining. After throwing on a shirt and sweatpants, he headed back, leaning against the doorframe; amused. Ten had woken up, trying to pick up a sleepy Renjun to go back to bed, the boy merely whining and demanding more cuddles. It pulls a laugh out of Ten, his hair dishevelled, eyes still laden with sleep. His heart does a little stutter, as the man broke out into a smile.

 _Stop it_ , he told himself.

(His heart did not heed.)

“Finally woke up?”

Ten startled, but relaxed once he saw Kun. “Don’t scare me like that,” he huffed out, and tried pulling Renjun again. Kun snorted, going over to help. Renjun opened his eyes after hearing his voice, climbing up to hug him. He was hardly awake, mumbling something before trying to lie back on the couch. Kun picked him up, rubbing his back.

“You little fox,” Ten whispered, as Kun took him to his bedroom, “suddenly all cooperative when daddy’s here.” Kun ignored him, but caught Renjun’s little smile as he tucked him in. At least he was a cute fox, Kun supposed. “He brushed his teeth, right?”

“Yeah,” Ten replied, coming behind him, “I made him eat celery today, you should give me an award.” Renjun nodded, “me too. I want a award too.”

“ _An_ award, and we’ll see about that,” he leaned down, giving the boy a peck. How Ten had managed to feed him that, Kun would have to ask, for he had been trying to get the boy to eat it now for ages. He turned around to find Ten watching the two of them, eyes crinkling. “My turn,” he said, and before Kun could voice his confusion, Ten leaned down and gave Renjun a smooch, the boy giggling as he pushed him away.

There was something about the scene, which gave him a pang in his chest. Ten turned around, his grin bright, and as Kun smiled back, he thought about Yukhei earlier in the day, and wondered if he looked the same as he had.

“Goodnight, Junnie,” he said, before turning the lights off. Kun walked out into the hallway, to see Ten waiting for him. He looked a tad bit anxious, and when he saw him, he bit his lip. “Sorry, ended up staying later than I needed too,” he started, and cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“You can stay as long as you need to.” Kun took a step closer, when he still didn’t calm down. “Is something wrong?”

“Just,” Ten averted his eyes, “I’m _really_ sorry for this, but I won’t be able to come next week. The showcase is near, and one of the choreographers fell sick, so I’m covering a few of his practice sessions,” he rushed out.

 _Oh,_ the news made him deflate. _Sicheng’s on break,_ he reminded himself, and if Renjun missed him they could always talk. It was a week anyway, and maybe a few days more depending on how tired he’d be, he reasoned. Yet, none of them managed to quell the odd sense of sadness.

Ten was quiet, still looking at the floor. Kun huffed a laugh, trying to push away his dejection, as he came closer to him. “Hey,” he said softly, and when Ten looked up, he gave him a small smile, “it’s fine, I’m pretty sure Sicheng will be more than fine with taking over for a while.”

“Still, sorry for telling you on such a short notice.”

“It wasn’t in your control,” he replied, and Ten nodded, still looking slightly guilty. In a moment of weakness, he placed a hand on Ten’s fidgeting ones, squeezing them before speaking up. “Just focus on your performance, alright? I can handle it, trust me.”

And he’s so close; Kun noticed a mole under one of his eyes. Ten was unfairly pretty, he thought to himself, as he blinked up at him, cheeks reddening. “I should go,” he whispered, but Kun wished he would just stay instead. They stay like that for a moment longer, until the other averts his gaze, pulling away. Ten cleared his throat, telling him he was going to get his stuff.

 _Calm down,_ he cursed his thundering heartbeat, wondering when it had slipped so easily out of his control.

The ride back was filled with silence, both of them too tired to fill with anything else. It had become therapeutic, in the past few months that Ten had started coming over, to drive in silence with nothing but the noise of the city and the other’s presence keeping him company. When he stopped in the driveway, he turned to look at Ten, to find him already looking back.

His eyes were still lidded with sleep, and it seemed the ride had only managed to increase his drowsiness, Ten’s body relaxed onto the seat. Kun wondered what he was thinking, his breathing steady, his eyes imploring. He could hardly decipher what it meant, Ten’s face guarded.

“Tell Renjun I’ll miss him,” Ten said, voice soft, yet his gaze heavy. Kun wondered what more the words wanted to say. “I will,” he told him. The other nodded, before pulling his bag from the backseat. His movements were languid, whether from sleep or something else, he didn’t know.

“You can still like, text or call,” Ten reminded, hands on the door, just shy of opening it. He paused for a second, as though he wanted to say something else, before he threw it open instead, getting out. Kun felt conflicted, as he watched him shut the door, lowering the window to see him leave.

“Be safe!” Ten shouted, just as he ascended the steps to the building’s entrance, waving at him. It made him laugh, Ten tiny compared to the size of the building, and Kun kept the image in mind the entire drive back, pushing the longing away as much as he could.

The only thing he could think of when he finally laid in bed, lights off and laptop pushed to the side, was how he was truly and utterly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from here on we finally getting to the romance lmao. i've been busy with uni, online classes and some personal stuff lately, so I didn't have time/motivation to write a new chapter for a while. Hope you enjoyed the update! 
> 
> Also ten and his catss in the relay cam ;;-;; pls cry with me i love him with my whole heart


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did this chap become 4k+ TT-TT

So Kun might have a tiny problem.

Sicheng agrees with no issues, the man having no life other than playing video games and stocking up on wine, while he was off work. Renjun didn’t take well to the news initially, but Kun somehow managed to appease him, telling the boy it wouldn’t be too long. (He also lets him talk with Ten for an hour on facetime, but well, _technicalities._ )

Everything seemed to have fallen in place, despite the sudden change of plans. He should be relieved, should be happy that when he comes back home Renjun is still excited to see him, that Sicheng stays around till however long he needs him too (Kun thinks that’s more because he wants to eat his food but whatever), should be happy that he was getting close to wrapping up most of his work as the weekend approached yet.

Yet, the feeling is not as sweet as he hoped it to be.

He’s happy, of course he is, but that still couldn’t squash the hint if disappointment he’d feel when he would no longer see Ten’s shoes lined up along theirs. Kun texts him whenever he can, both of them still busy with their own things, but it just wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t the same as coming home, and hearing his voice mixed with Renjun’s, greeting him at the door. It wasn’t the same; as he stood alone in the kitchen, only with Renjun’s occasional laugh and the sound of the television keeping him company. It wasn’t the same, when he’d tuck his son in goodnight, place a small peck on his forehead, and feel himself go hollow as he climbed back into bed. Kun was weirded out—for these were the very things that used to give him comfort, the routine, the peace, the quiet. If anything, he should be relieved.

Ten was an embodiment of chaos. Boisterous, sharp and absolutely merciless when he wanted to be. Ten was a menace, as he poked through Kun’s words, trying to twist them into whatever he saw fit, as long as he go a laugh in the end. He was competitive, and would _not_ let anyone except Renjun win the stupid board game all three of them had made up rules for. The paper was crumpled on which they wrote it on, hanging on the fridge with a weird magnet Ten had bought from who knows where. Ten was everything that Kun was not, everything that he had not thought he would ever want.

But when Kun comes back home, the week only just beginning with endless meetings lined up one after the other in his mornings, he thinks he has proven himself wrong. As Kun drops off Renjun at Doyoung’s, and returns to an empty home, he thinks that with time, he has changed. When he scrolls through his contacts, hesitating before pressing the call button, Kun thinks that his heart may have finally bumped into something it could not let go.

 _“Hey,_ ” Ten’s voice comes through, out of breath.

“Hey,” Kun says, and feels himself smile as Ten mocks his soulless reply.

Ten was everything that Kun had avoided for so long, yet. Yet, it seemed that he had managed to get himself tangled up anyway.

*

“Kun, you are the most _pathetic_ man I have seen,” Doyoung told him, when he’d laid his grievances out for the other to help with. He had expected it, would Kim Doyoung truly be himself if he wasn’t so blunt? But it still managed to hurt his pride a little.

“You can’t blame me,” he whined, playing with his straw. They were meeting up at a café, both of them free for the evening. Doyoung snorted at his evident misery, before slurping his drink. “I’ve just gotten used to him, you know? Even Renjun misses him.”

“Oh, you dumbfuck,” Doyoung chided, and Kun merely lowered his gaze in shame. “Renjun is a _child_ , he misses _Jaemin_ when the teacher’s absent for one day, of course he’s going to miss Ten. You, on the other hand, are a different case. And no—“ Doyoung held up a hand, closing his eyes as though it hurt him to stay the next words, “it is _not_ the same for you. You are—what do they call it?—pining, yes. You are _pining_.”

“I am not,” he mumbled, jutting his lower lip out into a pout. He truly wasn’t. Doyoung muttered a small ‘ _lord give me patience’_ under his breath. “You know what?” he spoke up suddenly, eyebrows pinched in annoyance. Taeyong was right, Doyoung _did_ look like a bunny, “You and Taeyong are the _exact_ same. I’m getting déjà vu just having this conversation.”

That piqued his interest, Kun sitting a little straighter. “Taeyong? Is it about Jaehyun?” 

Doyoung hummed. “It’s been seven years; I think it’s about time they started talking it over.”

“S-seven?”

“Yup,” he replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end. Doyoung took another sip, before relaxing into his chair. “They met when Mark was…four? Five? I don’t remember, but they knew each other for a while before Jaehyun had to leave for Paris. He came back last year, so they’ve been trying to figure it all out.”

“That’s…” _a long time._ Seven years? He wondered what had happened between the two. He remembered a few of Taeyong’s drunken words all those nights ago, and wondered if that was what was holding him back. The few times he occasionally did meet Jaehyun when he’d go to drop Renjun, the man seemed sweet, and always a tad bit more so when Taeyong was around.

“Taeyong wears his heart on his sleeve,” Doyoung told him, “contrary to what a lot say, he’s pretty sensitive. Ironic, since he’s a model. I get his hesitation, but…I wish they both just got their shit together already, you know?”

He thought of Jungwoo and Yukhei, and empathized with the other immediately. “I hope it goes smoothly between the two.”

Doyoung raised a brow, “Hopefully, but you can’t always expect sunshine and rainbows. Relationships are built, piece by piece, and you won’t always know where to fit what. There are risks of messing it up, and I’m pretty sure you know that very well.” Kun nodded, “He’s never been in a serious one before, so he’s scared, but I wish he would take the chance. Life’s too short for him to spend it in fear of what ifs. Jaehyun’s always been patient and understanding, but I worry he might not stay if Taeyong doesn’t make his mind.”

 _Life’s too short for him to spend it in fear of what ifs._ Kun had once fallen victim, to the thought that everything would just work out. He had let it be, let it get worse, until the final string had snapped, and he could no longer hold it all together. He was too scared to let go of his marriage, in fears of what would happen to Renjun if he did. Yet, fate had still managed to find a means to cut their bond entirely, and he wondered what would’ve happened if he acted sooner. He wondered if that’s where they had gone wrong, when they had started putting pieces in wherever they liked, ignorant of what the other was doing.

“He deserves to be happy,” Kun said eventually. Doyoung gave him a smile, one both melancholic and hopeful, “He does, doesn’t he?”

He’s about to rip his hair out after reading an e-mail, when Taeyong asks if he can come over.

It’s sudden, and he still has a few things to take care of. But after a moment of hesitation, Kun gives him a ‘yes’, hoping everything would be fine. Renjun was finishing up his homework across for him, occasionally needing help in writing a few numbers. The boy was bent close to the book, making Kun chuckle before he pushed his head up.

“You’ll ruin your eyesight, baby,” he said, when Renjun glared at him. The boy huffed, puffing his cheeks and going back to writing. The sight manages to calm his rising annoyance at the e-mail, as he goes back, trying to finish up as soon as possible.

It’s about an hour later, that Taeyong finally shows up. He’s brought Donghyuck along with him too, the boy grinning ear to ear as he waves at Kun in greeting. Renjun immediately takes his hand, pulling him towards his bedroom, not before Taeyong wrestles the jacket off Donghyuck’s frame.

“They’re always so excited,” Taeyong mumbles, hanging his own on the rack before coming in, “where does the energy even come from? It makes me feel exhausted sometimes.”

“Oh come on,” Kun said, taking him to the living room. This was only the second ever time Taeyong had come in, the first one being when he was sick. “I’ve never seen you get even _mildly_ annoyed at any of them.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I continue to suffer on the inside,” Taeyong sits on the couch with a groan, “both figuratively and literally. My back’s killing me.” Kun pours them both some juice before sitting next to him. “Tell me about it, Renjun loves being carried and thrown around like, all the time. It doesn’t help that I sit for hours in the office and then at home too for work.”

They talk for a while more, but Kun can tell there’s something Taeyong’s skirting around. He decides not to push it, letting him take his own time and tell him. It’s only when they’re on the topic on what they should get for Doyoung’s nearing anniversary, that he brings it up.

“Kun,” he says, before placing his glass back down. Taeyong took another cookie, ignoring the fruit on the table. “I-I need…I need some advice.”

“Me?” Kun pointed at himself in disbelief. “Taeyong, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m the last person you should come to for that. If anything, Doyoung’s the only one who’s got his shit together between us.”

Taeyong hits his arm. “Cut yourself some slack. And anyway, doesn’t experience give you insight? It’s-It’s about…I need relationship advice.”

Kun nearly spits out his juice. Taeyong ignores him, continuing, “So like, you know how I lov— _like_ Jaehyun, right?” Kun nods, “well, umm. He asked me on a date.”

“And you said no?”

“No, I said yes,” at Kun’s quizzed look, he sighs, “that’s the problem!”

“Your problem…” Kun starts, “…is that your crush asked you on a date? Taeyong, is it because of the kids?” He falls silent, eyes trained on his hands as he picks at them. Kun pulls them away, worried he might make them bleed. “Taeyong, don’t Donghyuck and Mark like him? And from what I’ve seen, he adores them just as much.”

“I know, I know that but…I’m just scared,” he leans against the cushions. “It’s weird, I feel like it’ll be different, once we properly start seeing each other. What if he doesn’t like me as much anymore? I’ve—I’ve made him wait a long time, Kun, and then the kids are involved too now. And if he leaves—I don’t know what I’ll do. Mark practically sees him as family, and Donghyuck loves him to bits, what will I tell them when he—“

“Taeyong,” Kun cuts him off, “Taeyong look at me.”

It takes a few seconds, but when he does, Kun feels his heart break. Taeyong’s eyes are filled with unshed tears, and he looks on the verge of panic. “First of all, it’s not _when,_ it’s _if._ Jaehyun _loves_ you, Taeyong. And he loves Mark and Donghyuck just as much.”

“But-“

“No buts. Don’t you think you should let yourself be happy too? Does he make you happy?” Taeyong nods, “then that’s it. You can figure it out together, along the way. No one—no one knows how anything’s going to plan out, okay? Look at me, I thought me and my ex would stay together forever, that we’ll raise kids, have a few pets, all the nine yards, but it didn’t happen. We did everything the way we’re supposed to, and it still didn’t. Jaehyun and you—you two might be a different case, but doesn’t mean it _won’t_ work out. In fact, it means that you should try all the more harder that it does.”

He gives him a sad smile. “Don’t make the mistakes I did. It fell through for me because I didn’t fight for it, didn’t try enough. But you two? You two have managed to come this far, Taeyong. It’s not easy, to keep loving someone without getting anything back for so many years on end, but if you can get through that, I think you can get through this too.”

It’s silent, after that. He gives Taeyong time to get his thoughts together, checking up on the kids in the meantime. They’re bickering when he comes in, and he stands there, amused. Donghyuck catches a glance of him, standing up immediately as he brings a sheet of paper. It’s a bird from what he can tell, and a quick look on the ground shows him something similar on the cover of a sketchbook.

“Uncle Kun,” Donghyuck whines, “Renjun said my drawing is ugly.”

“’cause it is!”

“ _Renjun_ ,” he chides, looking back at Donghyuck. He gives him a grin, ruffling his hair. “I think it’s really pretty, Hyuck. You should show it to your dad later too.” Donghyuck smiles, sticking his tongue out at Renjun a second after. Renjun huffs, before going back to his own paper. Just as he stands up to leave, he feels a tug, to turn and see Donghyuck looking at him.

“Is Apa okay?”

“Of course,” Kun tells him, “he’s fine, Hyuck. Why do you ask?”

“Apa cried last night. I was going to sleep, but I wanted water, so I went out and-and I heard him.” Kun schools his expression, not letting his concern surface. He pats Donghyuck’s head, “Apa probably watched a drama last night, he told me about it,” he lies, and watches as Donghyuck nods, thinking it over. He then gives him a smile, before going back to Renjun.

When he comes back to the living room, Taeyong looks up at him, and it’s only then that Kun notices his dark circles. The makeup usually managed to cover it up, but now that he was off shooting for a while, Taeyong had forgone wearing it when meeting up. “You were right,” he says, “I need to-I need to take a chance. I have to at least _try._ ”

Taeyong gets up, another cookie in his hand, “I’ll talk to Jaehyun about all of this. I—we, we can make this work. _I’m_ going to make it work,” and he takes a bite off it, munching as he nods, “yeah, and whatever happens from there happens, I can’t-I can’t keep running away, you know?”

And when he looks at Kun for assurance, Kun pulls Taeyong close, trapping him into a hug.

(Kun lets him take all of the cookies home.)

*

“Excuse me?”

The woman looks up, her grin wide. Kun feels his throat dry, as nervousness takes hold. Should he have really done this? Kun was starting become more impulsive by the day. The plastic bag in his hands felt heavy, his palms sweaty.

“How may I help you?” she asks, and oh god, what is he supposed to say? He feels embarrassed, with a lack of reason to be here, and no idea on how to explain what was going on. What if he wasn’t here? Then Kun would just have to jump in a hole and erase himself from existence. He’s sure Sicheng could take perfectly good care of Renjun.

On second thought, no, he would not.

“Umm,” he starts, “I wanted to meet somebody, and he’s a choreographer here.”

“Oh,” she says, standing up, the letters ‘ _MOVE_ ’ embedded in the wall behind her. The studio was chic, colours of white, blue and black filling the spaces. “Who is it?”

“Ten,” he tells her, and she pauses for a few seconds, eyes raking top to bottom. He feels utterly self-conscious, clad in only a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “And who might you be?”

“Kun,” he says, and feels his confidence drop to zero as her face remains guarded. She nods, going into the hallways. It takes a few minutes, and he’s contemplating just running out of there and sending a ‘sorry’ text later. Just as he takes his phone out, he hears footsteps approaching.

“Kun?” And he feels the breath get knocked out of him. Ten’s looking at him as if he’s grown an extra head, the woman from before eventually coming from behind, her smile back. She goes back to the desk, humming under her breath.

“What are you doing here?” Ten asks, approaching him. He’s only wearing a thin white t-shirt and a pair of shorts, his hair wet from sweat. Kun, for a lack of ability to speak, just gestures towards the bag. Ten snorts when he looks through it. “You brought food?”

“I was worried you weren’t eating enough,” and that, at least, is the truth. Ten had been staying later and later into the nights at the studio, brushing off questions about rest and food more frequently.

“You’re impossible,” Ten mutters, but when he looks at him, his eyes are fond. “Come in, we can stay in the practice room; it’s empty right now.”

“Oh Tzuyu? She’s just careful. We have a youtube channel, and some of the others have gone on TV , so we occasionally get a few stalkers.”

“ _Stalkers?!”_

Ten gives him an unimpressed look. “Wait till you hear about what happens when celebrities come, you’d die of a heart attack.” He goes back to digging in his food. Despite his earlier nonchalance, Ten inhales one bowl easily, already halfway through his second. Kun feels his own heart grow full; some of the concern put to rest.

It feels oddly intimate, sitting there against the wall, only the two of them in the entire room. There’s Ten’s bag thrown open on the side, and shelves of something else on the opposite side of the room, but other than that, it’s practically barren.

“This is my private room,” Ten says, mouth full of noodles. Kun gives him a look of disgust. The other rolls his eyes, but swallows before continuing, “I got one this year, since we moved to a new building.”

“You stay here the whole day?” Kun asks. Ten nods, “sometimes I fall asleep too, after I lay down when I’m too tired. The floor’s pretty cool and nice, it lulls you right to dreamland.”

That makes Kun frown. “But isn’t that bad for you? You should at least keep like a blanket or something. Isn’t your apartment near here? You should go home and sleep on a proper bed. And you’re not eating properly either, what if you faint from exhaustion?”

“ _Alright_ , mom,” Ten says, before chugging the entire bottle of water down. Kun is impressed. Ten looks at him for a second, before he crawls towards him, sitting with his legs crossed right in front of him. He pokes in between Kun’s eyebrows, frowning. “Why are you always so worried?” and Kun swats his hand away, Ten’s laugh making his cheeks grow warm.

He can feel the other’s body heat, through their close proximity, knees nearly touching. Ten’s smile is mischievous, and he leans in closer, making him lean back. “Aww, is our Kun shy now?”

“You’re so annoying,” Kun scoffs, pushing him back. Ten merely snickers, leaning onto his palms. His shirt slips off slightly to one side, and Kun catches a peak of another tattoo, this one coloured in. “Thanks for coming though,” Ten tells him, “I’ve been stuck here for the past few days, if it’s not class then practice. It feels nice to break away from it.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Kun says, “you’ll do well.”

Ten raises an eyebrow, “and how would you know that? Have you seen me perform?”

“No, but from what I’ve seen you give your all to everything you do. I doubt this would be any different.” Ten falls silent, his expression sobering to something else. Kun wonders if he’s said the wrong thing, when the other looks away. “Do you wanna’ see?”

“What?”

“Do you wanna’ see my-my routine? Since you’re not coming anyway.”

 _Oh._ Oh, that’s what he meant. It stirs something within him, but Kun isn’t sure exactly what. Ten’s voice is more delicate the usual, when he speaks the questions, and he can’t for the life of him figure out why. A few seconds pass as he loses himself to the turmoil in his head, when Ten clears his throat.

“It’s alright,” and he’s suddenly trying for a grin, “you can just say no, you know? I won—“

“—I’d love too, if-if you’re fine with that.”

Ten pauses and Kun watches him carefully, the way a flush works up his neck. _He thought I’d say no,_ and it makes him internally berate himself for leaving him hanging. “O-okay,” Ten says, getting up and going to his phone. He connects it to the cord, and when turns back, he’s surprised to see Ten genuinely nervous. It’s not a sight he’s greeted with often.

“It’s just me,” Kun tells him, offering a smile, despite the way his own heart is going haywire. _Why won’t it stop?_ Ten gives him a nod, closing his eyes. _It’s just Ten_ , he reminds himself. His anticipation grows, when the starting notes of the song begin. It’s a classical piece, he realises with a jolt.

Ten takes a deep breath in, and _falls._

Before Kun could voice his concern, he realises it’s part of the choreography.

It’s enchanting, the way the music seems to possess him, his limbs curling up, and slowly reaching out. Ten moves like his body is not that of human, but instead made of water. He reaches out, his face lost in the realm he has entered, his body succumbing itself to the music. He’s both fluid and sharp, he is whatever the music demands of him. The notes crash and tumble into each other, the pace picking up, and with that so does the urgency in which he moves. He’s everywhere; his hands extending, his legs stretching, his torso bending. Kun cannot help but lose himself in the performance, feel himself fall further and further, let himself be enticed into the feeling of melancholy the song conveys. Ten turns, he turns and turns and turns until he falls to the floor, his expression of utter despair as he claws his hands and body, eventually bringing his knees to his chest.

The music stops, and for Kun, it feels as though time does too. It takes him a few seconds to process whatever just happened, takes him a few seconds to calm his own breathing.

Ten sighs from in front of him. He lies on the floor, panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. A moment later, he turns to his side, giving Kun a sheepish smile. “Not bad, huh?”

“ _Ten,_ ” he says, looking at him in awe. No words come into mind, that could encompass what he felt. “That was…that…” amazing? Beautiful? Breath-taking? None seemed to do justice.

Ten chuckles at his expression, pulling himself up. He’s still breathing pretty heavily, sweat matting his hair. “Are you speechless or was it not impressive?” And he plays it off as a joke, but Kun can see the slight anxiety in his eyes as he asks the question.

Kun can only stare at him in disbelief. “ _Not impressive_?! Ten, have you ever _seen_ yourself?!” He gets up, walking over. Ten’s eyes widen, as Kun takes both of his hands. “Do you realise how you look? When you dance? It-It’s like watching music come to life, as if you’re the very personification of the music you’re dancing to—and, I know, I’m no expert in dancing, but, you made me _feel_ it? You know? Each note, each part of it, and to evoke so much emotion…Ten that takes a lot of skill and talent.”

“I…” Ten trails off, at a loss of words. He’s staring at him as if he’s looking at Kun for the first time, his gaze delicate, his face even more so; Kun’s never seen him look so vulnerable. “Thank…you,” he eventually stutters out, staring down at his feet instead. Kun rubs a thumb along his knuckles, a small smile on his lips.

“You’ll do great, alright?” He whispers, and Ten nods, his eyes shut. “I believe in you, Ten. And…I’m really grateful you wanted to show me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Ten says, looking away. Kun can barely make out the expression on his face. “You-you should leave. Re-Renjun’s probably waiting for you. And Sicheng! He’s probably hungry too.”

 _Was Ten_ … _shy?_

Kun kept the observation to himself, feeling laughter bubble over. Ten merely huffed before cleaning up the containers on the floor. His ears were tipped red, and oh, Kun felt himself fall, a little more, a little deeper.

“Thanks for visiting,” Ten tells him, as he walks him outside. He’s thrown on a pair of sweatpants and a jacket, both that seem to drown him whole. Kun shakes his head, walking down the steps. He bids him a goodnight, reminding him one last time to take better care of himself (“look who’s talking” ”Ten, can we let that go?”).

Just as he reaches halfway down the path, he hears footsteps running up to him. Kun turns around, just in time to see Ten come up to him, his nose red from the cold. “Ten, wha-”

Kun doesn’t get to complete his question as Ten gets on his toes, and he feels a pair of lips press against his cheek. “Thatsforthefood,” Ten rushes out, before running back inside, leaving Kun to somehow _not_ explode right then and there. He can only stare back, where Ten’s already long gone inside the hallways, and pray for his heart to stop beating so fast. He was an _adult_ , for goodness sakes. He was supposed to keep it together.

Kun manages to get into his car, manages to drive back home. Manages to avoid all of Sicheng’s questioning looks, and dives into his bed covers finally after Renjun falls asleep. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to pretend like nothing happened, that his being wasn’t in shambles after something so small, so utterly innocent.

(Kun tosses and turns for hours that night, running the scene in his head over and over again, the feeling of it so raw in his memory, until he finally tires himself out.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so umm, idk wtf happened that i wrote so much. I hope you enjoyed. I get really nervous when it comes to romance since i'm not really confident in that area, so i hope it was okay ;;-;; please leave kudos/comments if you liked it, and thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

“I’m going, Jun,” he says, his voice soft so he wouldn’t disturb Renjun much. Renjun mumbles a ‘bye’ and lets Kun kiss his head. He closes the door to his room, going over to the kitchen to get his coffee. He adjusts his tie, checking his phone for any new messages.

Today was Ten’s showcase. He’s already texted him a ‘good luck’ last night, but the man still hadn’t replied. He tries to quell the worry in his chest, instead thinking of something else to say. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his mind drifting back to a few nights back. Kun can still fell the ghost of Ten’s lips along his cheek, and he groans. Why was everything so difficult?

Just then, he hears the front door opening, the tell-tale sound of Sicheng‘s bag falling near the front door echoing down to the kitchen. Kun sips his coffee, pressing the send button in a moment of panic and pocketing his phone. Sicheng eventually enters, looking around.

“Renjun’s still asleep?”

Kun nods. “He found an album in my room, and he insisted I tell him about each every picture. We ended up staying up pretty late.” Sicheng made a sound of understanding, throwing his keys on the countertop and grabbing a mug to get himself some coffee as well. They didn’t talk much after that, Kun then cleaning up and shrugging on his jacket, wearing his glasses just before he left.

“Hey,” Sicheng calls out, once he's at the door, “today’s Ten’s performance.”

“I know,” he tells the other, tying his shoelaces. He stands up, to be met with a look he couldn’t decipher on Sicheng’s face, “I texted him last night, and now too.”

Sicheng looks at him a moment longer, before nodding. “Be safe,” he says, as Kun finally leaves.

*

“I’m going to kill her,” Jungwoo mumbles, gripping the pencil in his hand so hard Kun was afraid it might break into two, “I am legitimately about to commit murder.”

Though Kun could empathise with the sheer feeling of anger, he still didn’t want the one person he had grown so close to at work to be in jail. He gently pries the pencil away from his hand, and gives Jungwoo a few pats. “She’s still a client,” he tells him.

Jungwoo huffs, before going through the next file. The woman had been absolutely insufferable to work with, Sejeong barely managing to keep things civil during the entire ordeal. She had left now though, her department having their own meeting soon with their head. And then _Kun_ would have one with them, and oh god, it was only eleven a.m.

“Who do we have next?” he asks, pinching his eyebrows.

“We need to discuss the yearly budget and profits this year with the marketing team, but before that the interns are going to be coming in. You finished grading their assignments right?” Kun nods. He’d spend the last few nights compiling everything together, and marking them one last time before sending them in. “You?”

“Done,” Jungwoo mumbles, flipping through the schedule. “Can you believe we’ll have to sacrifice our break for this shit? They say we don’t need to, but we _always_ end up having to extend the time just because people won’t co-operate.”

“And now the kids are leaving by next month too, work’s gonna get really hectic again,” Kun says, already feeling devastated. Yukhei had been great help over the past few months, even if he’d occasionally gotten distracted. Kun had made sure to give him a good review.

Eventually, the interns start pouring in, all of them barely being able to hide their nervousness. Jungwoo sends him a small smile, before schooling his expression as he looks back at them. It was definitely unsettling them, Kun could see it, and he wants to hit the other for teasing them at a time like this.

“Take your seats,” Kun says, “we’ll be handing out your reports and giving the final assessment today.”

*

Kun rubs his neck, trying to relax the muscles that had gone stiff. As expected, the meeting with the marketing department had gone longer than usual, and now he had barely enough time to gain some sustenance. It seemed as though Jungwoo had given up on life in general, his head planted on the table.

A glance at his watch, and it was already nearing one. In an hour, the show would start, and Ten still hadn’t replied to his message. Kun tried not to worry too much.

“I said yes,” Jungwoo suddenly spoke up, making Kun nearly drop his cupcake. He cradles it closer. “What are you talking about?” he asks.

“Yukhei,” he replies and straightens up, a warning for Kun to be quiet clear in his eyes, “and no, not on a date. Not yet, at least. I said I’ll just meet up for some coffee or something and maybe get to know each other out of work, you know, so he doesn’t get any wrong ideas about me.” Jungwoo took a deep breath in, breaking off a piece of his cake, “he’s leaving in like a month anyway, so even if we manage to fuck it up it’ll be fine.”

Kun snorts, and then pulls his cake away from the other’s grabby hands. Jungwoo pouts, before begrudgingly getting up to get some for himself. He feels oddly proud of the other, and hopes with all his heart whatever was best would work out. He thought about Taeyong, and reminded himself to call the other some time again.

“Kun? Jungwoo?”

They both turn around, the voice echoing in the empty cafeteria. It was one of the secretaries. “Yes?” he prompts.

“The meetings have been cancelled. There’s an emergency, so they won’t be able to make it today.”

“Then when—“

“We’ll update you as soon as we fix the date,” and with that, he was gone. Kun looks back at Jungwoo, to find him staring at him with the same contemplative expression. “So then…do we-do we…leave?”

“I don’t have anything else for today,” Kun tells him, Jungwoo nodding, “neither do I.”

“So does that mean…” Jungwoo starts, walking closer as Kun cleans up, his smile growing with each word, “…we get to leave early?”

They both squeal in excitement, before running back to pack their stuff and head home.

*

“Renjun!” he calls out, excited when he comes back home. He fails to notice the lack of shoes near the entrance, throwing his coat on the rack before making his way inside. The house was silent, no noise except those of the cars and birds outside. “Sicheng?” he calls out again, to no avail.

_Did he take Renjun out?_

He checks the rooms, devoid of any person but him. Kun pulls his phone out, texting Sicheng.

**_Sicheng_ **

_Oh_

_you’re early_

_yeah, we’re out_

_I took jun to see the showcase_

*

“Umm, sir, the entrance is that way.”

Kun nods, feeling embarrassment trickle in. It had taken him twenty minutes to realise that instead of wasting time over another outfit he should’ve just gone in his suit instead. When Kun finally arrives, the show is well into an hour, and he belatedly realises he might’ve missed Ten’s performance.

He couldn’t call Sicheng, since his phone would be on silent, and all his texts go unanswered, for whatever reason. He skids to a stop in front of the hall, showing his half crumpled ticket before being led inside. There’s murmurs and chatters running rampant among the audience, and he’s impressed to see the entire theatre nearly booked out. He stumbles on a step, the darkness not helping, when suddenly the first notes of a familiar song start to hum from the speakers, and an immediate hush befalls the crowd.

It takes less than a second for him to register that Ten’s performance has started.

He can only stand there, at the top of the stairs, bewitched. Lights fall upon his form, a frame on stage. There are _backup dancers,_ and Kun realises that this is _entirely_ different from what he’s seen in the practice room. Here, beneath the red and white lights, Ten looks more of an artist—a _performer_ , than Kun has ever seen of him.

He brings them in, his gestures, his expressions, the details of his fingers and the mild twitches of his smile. Ten twists and turns, he extends and powers through and it’s as though everyone in the room is under his spell, not a single sound except for the occasional cheer. Kun can only watch, as Ten comes alive under the audience’s gazes, thrives on the attention and manipulates it to his will. The music is dramatic, and Kun pieces the story together bit by bit, as he grabs his hair, throwing himself back, and comes back up with a smile that sends chills down his spine.

 _He’s going insane,_ and every single one of them can do nothing but watch what seems to be a music conductor’s descent into utter madness in greed for greater perfection, such perfection that would take one to kill themselves and be reborn as an entirely different person. And as Kun watches, he can’t help but think that is what’s exactly happening right before him, Ten being reborn into someone else on a stage and with the music.

When he finally takes his final bow, the one that represents his end, Kun feels himself automatically clap in awe. The theatre is _loud_ , deafening almost but he pays it no mind, too entranced to even care. Once the lights go back on and Ten bows again, this time back to his normal self, he can’t help but feel a sense of whiplash.

When Kun finally finds Renjun and Sicheng, him being pulled backstage against his will, Kun feels his thoughts get more and more convoluted, his feelings tangling and ripping apart in opposite directions.

When they finally reach the dressing rooms amongst hoards of other staff, friends and families, he feels his heart thunder against his ribcage, when Ten immediately breaks out in a smile upon hearing Renjun’s voice. When Sicheng pulls him into a hug, giving him a pat on the back, he feels his thoughts seep in between the crevices of his heart, and threaten to break it apart. When Ten looks at him, his eyes so bright and full of affection, Kun feels his _break._

Ten was a _star._ How could he possibly ever think of tying him down to earth? With _him_? How could he possibly think of having something more, when he knows it would just hold the other back?

“You came,” Ten says, voice utterly soft and laced with something he doesn’t want to decipher.

“I told you, you would be amazing,” Kun tells him, his own smile wide, as he feels his heart shatter within him.

*

“And then! This-this girl she _fell,_ and the boy catched her like _this—“_

Kun hums, as he listens to Renjun’s grand descriptions of all that he had missed. Sicheng keeps correcting all his mistakes, but the boy doesn’t care, powering through regardless of all the obstacles. His mind is all over the place, only his muscle memory helping him keep his attention on the road and somehow pretend that he was listening to Renjun.

When they eventually reach home, Kun leaves the two of them together, going straight to clean up. He turns the shower handle to the hottest setting, some of the knots in his muscles relaxing. The sting of it helps him keep from thinking too much, but it still manages to invade his mind to a degree.

What was he _thinking?!_ Him and _Ten?_ Kun bowed his head, letting water hit his scalp. The windows had started to steam. He could barely keep a self-deprecating laugh down. He’d gotten too ahead of himself, not realising what all of this— _whatever_ it was between them—would actually _mean._ Ten was a _dancer_ , one that had a bright future ahead of him, one that had the world ready and open to explore as he spent his years climbing a ladder of fame. Ten had only agreed to help because Sicheng had requested him, and he didn’t like spending time alone at in the evening. Kun had lead him on, had lead him to think and believe there was something _more_ when there just could _not_ be, because it just wouldn’t work out.

Maybe in a different universe, where they were both still young, or Kun did not have the responsibilities that he had now. Kun could not waste time in _dating_ , in something so miscellaneous and carefree. He could not risk the slightest of possibilities of a breakup, of a falling out, of just a fling. He had a son to take care of, to make sure he had the best of upbringings Kun could provide for him, and unstable relationship was _not_ one of them.

Kun slams the handle down, when the water starts to burn. He’s heaving, his throat constricting. Kun could _not_ waste his times on some silly _feelings,_ no matter how much it hurt.

*

He swirls his glass, watching the red wine slosh. He leans against his headrest, after making sure that Renjun had fallen asleep. Kun sips it; letting the taste of it become familiar again. He had stopped drinking it a while back, no longer needing it to relax him enough to sleep. He feels his phone vibrate on the bed, unlocking it before realising he had gotten a few replies from Ten. He pulled down the preview, instead of opening the chat.

**Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

_i’m so sorry omg_

_i kept all notifications off, so im just seeing this now_

_thank you TT-TT_

_and thank you again for coming today_

_means a lot to me :)_

He hesitates, and eventually switches the thing off, throwing it back on the sheets. Kun groans, downing the glass, before filling it up again. He couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest, no matter how much he tried, not to mention the new wave of guilt after not replying. _This is for the best_ , he told himself. Kun chanted it in his head again and again and again, until it had started to become a comforting lie.

For the first night after many, Kun has a hard time falling asleep.

*

Kun hates it.

Kun hates this new feeling, hates the way it sticks to him like a leech and follows him around everywhere. Hates that each and every inch of his house reminds him of Ten, hates that when he wakes up, his first instinct is to check his chats, before realising what he was doing. Kun types out a lame ass reply, sending it, before making his way to the kitchen.

He had to arrive at work later than usual today, the meetings pushed back because of something. Kun just sits there, his mind blank, as the clock continues to tick. After a few more minutes of silence, he finds the energy to brush his teeth and wash his face, trying to eat a bowl of cereal. Kun tries not to let his eyes wander towards the fridge and crumpled paper, tries not to let his gaze linger on the latest addition to the mug shelf above his sink. Kun tries to ignore the pouches and pens on the coffee table in the living room, pretends to not look at the new scarves near the door for longer than necessary.

But it’s just _so_ hard.

Everywhere he looks, he sees _him._ When he wakes Renjun up, the first thing the boy talks about are performances—specifically Ten’s, gushing about them through his broke knowledge of music and dance. When Sicheng arrives, he’s reminded of last night, of the way Ten beamed when he’d seen that someone had come for him too, that he too had been given a bouquet by his friends like the others in the room. When Kun pulls his car out, he can’t help but remember the way Ten would turn quiet on their rides back, occasionally talking about things here and there.

Ten is _everywhere_ , and it makes everything all the more harder.

“Calm down, woah,” Jungwoo tells him, when he slams his file on the table in annoyance. He’s sipping a coffee, and Kun is reminded of the time Ten had managed to spill the entire thing all over himself, needing to borrow some of his clothes back home.

“Did something happen?” he asks, and just then, the head of the R&D enters, along with his secretary and a few of his employees. “Doesn’t matter,” Kun mutters, and Jungwoo gives him a look, before beginning the meeting.

*

As expected, it’s even more difficult when Ten finally starts coming back.

The weather’s getting colder and colder, with December approaching it all its glory. Ten’s taken to start wearing sweaters and thick coats, and they make him look small, which in turn make him look cute, which in turn drive Kun insane.

The first day goes well enough. He’s home more often now that most of the end of the year preparations and plans have been discussed, only needing to be finalised before they could start on something else. So when Ten does come over, after the initial greeting, Kun takes to his room, spending time on his laptop in lieu of being around him. He checks up on them once in a while, and that’s about it. Ten doesn’t question it either, probably chalking it up to work.

Ten’s still considerably tired, so they hardly talk the entire way back, and Kun leaves earlier than he usually does when he drops him off at his apartment.

He feels the familiar crawl of both guilt and longing over his skin, and tries to shake them off. _This was for the best._

*

It’s no surprise that Ten starts picking it up. Kun doesn’t talk to him as much; neither does he message him as much either. He tries to be distant whenever it’s just the two of them, avoids any conversation with him if it’s not important. He makes sure that Renjun doesn’t think something’s off though, so he plays it up in front of him whenever they’re together.

Kun knew he was being an utter asshole, especially since the other had no clue of what was going on, but he _had_ to do this. The only way he would be able to get over his feelings was to create as much as distance as possible, so that one day, when Ten would laugh over something and turn to him, Kun’s heart would not stutter. So that one day, when Ten would leave his car and enter his building, Kun would not long for something that wasn’t possible.

So when he parks in front of the building again, Ten talking about something that happened at the studio, he waits. He waits for the other to finish and leave, not really paying attention to anything the other’s saying as he looks at him. Ten’s ears are lined with different earrings, he notices, these tiny rhinestones studs. Ten’s hair’s gotten longer too, reaching past his eyes, the back nearing his shoulders. Ten immersed in whatever’s he’s saying, and Kun feels himself drawn to way his eyes sparkle, to the slope of his nose, to the curve of his—

“—your stop’s here,” he cuts him off, and it comes out harsher than he’d intended.

Ten shuts up immediately, and Kun feels guilt hit him like a truck.

“O-okay,” he whispers, and there’s genuine hurt in his eyes, and oh god, Kun feels like an utter _jerk._ Before he can get anything out, Ten pulls his bag from the back, fumbling with the door.

“I’m sorry,” Kun rushes out, but Ten merely mumbles a ‘its fine’ before he leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.

 _What the hell is wrong with you Qian Kun?_ He mentally berates himself, as he hits his head against the steering wheel. Ten doesn’t look back once, not sparing him a single glance as he disappears from view.

*

Ten doesn’t try talking to him after that.

He doesn’t say anything when Kun opens the door, doesn’t even _look_ at him when they eat dinner the one time when Ten’s going home later than usual. He smiles and acts like everything’s fine in front of Renjun, but immediately drops it the moment they leave the apartment. Kun tries apologising again, but the other brushes it off, leaving without a word the entire ride back.

And he should be happy, shouldn’t he? This is exactly what he wanted. But if anything, it hurts _more._

It hurts so much more, and Kun wants to punch a wall, wants to break his pencil in half, because this _was for the best,_ but it only pains him to continue doing it, act as if they’ve both become strangers. His mood at work has recently started becoming more and more sour, and he knows he has to start getting it together when _Sejeong_ of all people approaches to ask him if he’s fine.

He’s an _adult,_ for goodness sake, and he was acting like an immature teenager.

*

He’s glad to spend the weekend alone with Renjun, if only to ignore all the dumb shit he’s been pulling the past few weeks. They end up going to the mall again, in preparation of buying Christmas gifts. Kun’s not one to really celebrate it, but Renjun loves the glamour of all of it, so he’s kept it going. The boy’s even more excited this year, since he gets to pick out gifts for Jeno and Donghyuck.

Which is…easier said than done.

“No Junnie,” he says, gently prying away the one thousand piece puzzle from Renjun’s hands, “let’s think of something else, hmm?”

Renjun whines and pouts for a while, but eventually relents. Kun heaves a sigh of relief. Jeno may accept the gift with a smile, teaming up with Doyoung to complete it, but he knows for a fact that Donghyuck would not look at the thing again for the rest of his life, maybe even use the puzzle piece for the next art project Jaemin gave them to do at home.

It takes them a whole two hours, many tantrums, and much convincing, until they finally get the gifts wrapped and ready. He’s picked out some stuff he found interesting for Doyoung too, keeping a mental not to come again some other day for everyone else.

Kun buys Renjun churros (everything in malls were _so overpriced_ ) and that keeps the boy entertained and full for the rest of their time there, occasionally getting distracted by the Christmas decorations. They would probably set up the tree in a few days too, Kun thought, as he clutched Renjun’s cold hands his own.

“Papa,” Renjun calls out, mouth still filled with food. Kun nags at him to swallow before continuing. The boy does not listen. “Can we go there?”

He looks to where Renjun’s pointing, confused. ”That’s a jewellery shop, baby, why do you want to go there?”

Renjun munches on his churros, staring at it for a while longer. Kun waits, his grip loosening, and Renjun’s hands slip out his own as he runs towards the displays. Kun comes up behind him, watching him as he presses his nose against the glass.

“Ten has that,” Renjun mumbles against the glass. It takes a moment for Kun to realise that he’s talking about the pendants. “I want to-I want to get Ten that,” he suddenly declares, staring up at Kun. Kun merely blinks back down at him. He doesn’t know how exactly to respond, crouching in front of his son.

“We can get him something else, alright?” he tells him, just knowing how high the prices would be. Renjun furrow his brows. “No, I want to get him this,” he tells Kun, pointing back at the display. And the necklaces do look really lovely, thin chains with simple but pretty pendants hanging from them.

“We can come some other day then, okay? It’s getting late now,” Kun tells him instead. Renjun stares at him in silence for a few moments, and Kun holds his breath, ready for another tantrum, but surprisingly, the boy just deflates. “Okay,” Renjun says, dejected.

Kun laughs, picking him up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t be too sad, we still did a lot today!”

*

“Taeyong?”

Kun barely manages to conceal his surprise. It was extremely early in the morning, the sun just having come up. Taeyong gives him an apologetic smile, when Kun ushers him inside, the man only wearing a thin coat over his pyjamas. A small part of him was afraid of what news had prompted the other to come over so early, but looking at the way Taeyong’s face was practically glowing, he let that worry dissipate.

“I have something to tell you,” Taeyong tells him, pulling him down next to him. “But before that, I wanna’ say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong tells him, his eyes filled with gratitude. “I—you know how me and Jaehyun started going out again a few months ago?” Kun nods, “well, I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to talk about it if you hadn’t helped me out that day.”

After their conversation, Taeyong had texted them about how he and Jaehyun had finally sat down and had a long, _long_ discussion, and eventually decided to start meeting up again. It had been going great, both him and Doyoung over the moon, so Kun hoped the man had only come to deliver good news.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he says, “I just did what a friend would.”

Taeyong pulls him into a hug. Kun laughs, hugging the man back, until he feels the other’s shoulders trembling, and wetness on his own night shirt. He pulls back, to see Taeyong crying.

“Oh no,” Kun says, wiping a few stray tears away, “oh no, this is supposed to be happy moment, right? Don’t _cry_ , Taeyong.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, choking on a sob, “how can I, Kun? Today’s one of the happiest days of my life.” And Kun catches sight of the glint on Taeyong’s hand, before he brings his left hand forward, a ring sitting snug on his finger. Kun looks back at the other, his own jaw dropping in shock before he hugs Taeyong again, much, _much_ tighter than before.

“I’m getting married to him, Kun,” he whispers, and oh, Kun can barely contain his own happiness, “I’m getting married to Jung Jaehyun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRET NOT. there will be good vibes soon just hold on a little longer, we gotta make kun suffer a little more lol before he can be happy. also we're finally nearing the end of this fic TT-TT there's only a few chapters left, and i'm so excited to finish it but also lowkey sad since i loved writing it so much TT-TT
> 
> thank you for reading! please leave a comment/kudos if you liked it!!
> 
> Also just wanna mention the performance is half inspired by lovely and half by hit the stage, made it dramatic since I've been watching penthouse lately


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my chapters keep getting longer and longer huh

Kun groans, after feeling the familiar buzz of the phone go off near his head. Eyes shut, he pats the surface around him, until he finally comes in contact with the cool metal of his phone, somehow managing to pick it up.

“Hello?” He croaks out, groggy.

“ _Hey, it’s me, Doyoung,”_ Kun’s tempted to hang up, sleep calling for him again. His work load had indeed started to increase again now that the interns were coming in less often; no one to help him out anymore with the other tasks. “ _You free tomorrow?”_

Kun pulls the phone away from his ear, checking the date as his eyes burn from the sudden exposure of light. The weekend was just after tomorrow, so maybe he could squeeze in time for something. “Maybe,” he says, “why?”

 _“Taeyong’s invited for dinner. He messaged you, but you haven’t replied and I’m kinda impatient. Anyways, try to make some time if you can—it’s fine if you’re busy though—he’s just really excited now, getting married and all,_ ” Kun chuckles, Doyoung doing the same over the line. They trade a few more words, before he plants his face back into his arms.

As much as he tries, however, sleep had already started to slip away and abandon him as his body asked for the softness of his bed instead. Sighing, he sat up, realizing that he was in fact, in the kitchen. He looks out, to see the sky already dark, and wondered what time of the day it was. It felt like he had been transported to another dimension, his brain made of goo. Kun just stares at the window for a few minutes, mind blank, until he finally tethers himself back to reality.

Once he shifts, he feels the weight of something on his back; reaching back to see it was a blanket. He tries remembering ever getting up and getting it himself, yet no matter how much he racks his brain, he’s pretty sure he hadn’t. Kun lets out a huff, taking it off and folding it, before heading to Renjun’s room.

The boy’s fast asleep, tucked in and changed into his pyjamas. Kun leans his still tired body against the doorframe, taking in the sight in front of him. The room’s surprisingly organised, no toys, colours, or papers strewn about. Even Renjun’s school bag with all his homework is placed on the boy’s desk, when usually Kun would have to dig it out from the depths of tartarus to retrieve it. And then, it finally hits him.

 _Ten_. A glance at the clock shows that it’s already a few hours past midnight, and he feels his heart twist in his chest. He doesn’t even remember when the other had come in, when he had put Renjun to sleep, when he had covered Kun up. There’s a small part of him, that reminds him that this is exactly what his aim was, to somehow distance himself enough that he won’t want to be closer to the other each time he saw him, wouldn’t let his eyes wander and mind imagine each time he saw him.

Yet. Yet, he feels such a genuine _ache_ in his chest, at the idea of not seeing him _at all._ Yet Kun seems to long for him _more_ , when he realises he hadn’t seen a glimpse of Ten at all, had missed him completely, too busy dreaming away.

Why did it all have to be so _hard?_ Kun trudges back to his room, the blanket in his arms providing him both comfort and disdain.

*

“I can’t believe they all fell asleep.”

Kun can’t either, as he picks up an extremely drowsy Renjun from the floor. After a few seconds, Doyoung finds Jeno from under a desk. Donghyuck is somehow sleeping _on_ the dresser, which as much as it is concerning, is also extremely impressive. They hear the door open, and Kun turns to tell Taeyong to take a picture, except that it’s Jaehyun instead. Doyoung says something that he can barely hear, making him laugh, before he leaves.

“Kun,” Jaehyun calls out, extracting Donghyuck from amidst the accessories and makeup, “can I tell you something?”

Kun hums. Jaehyun cradles Donghyuck close to him, and he notices how the boy instinctively grabs on tighter. “Taeyong was talking to me about you yesterday,” he says, “I just—I wanted to thank you.”

“M-me?”

“Uhm,” Jaehyun says, “I don’t think you realise how much your words helped him out. He doesn’t really have anyone to talk to about this stuff, you know? Doing it all alone for so long, he only ever goes to Doyoung or his parents about the kids sometimes, and that’s it. When it comes to his feelings, and what he wants, it…it takes a lot to make him finally speak. He’s gotten in the habit of keeping it to himself. Just, it means a lot to him, since you’re in a similar position.”

“I…”Kun was at a loss of words. He didn’t really feel like he had done much, except listen and say a few words. But he gets it, to a degree. With Mark nearly turning twelve, that must’ve been quite a rocky journey.

Donghyuck murmurs something in his sleep, and Jaehyun laughs, before giving him a smile. “I’ll take him to bed, then.”

Just as he leaves, Kun calls his name. He turns around, facing the other. Jaehyun waits for him, intrigued. He thinks of all the words he wants to say, of all the things he’s felt and seen. Kun thinks about how happy Taeyong was, the way his smile had managed to outshine everything else in Jaehyun’s expensive apartment, and remembers how rare it was to ever see one of those.

“Keep him happy, alright?” He says, “or else-or else Doyoung and I will end you.”

Jaehyun laughs, deep and full, his eyes crinkling. “I plan to, hyung, I really do.”

*

“No, Jun,” he can hear Ten whine, “I’ll show you how to do it, hmm?”

When he glances into the bedroom, he finds them both crouched over Renjun’s homework. They’re bickering, with his son unable to keep giggling or interrupting Ten in one way or another. He’s tempted to tell the other to stop, but he keeps it to himself, watching instead, as Ten merely lets out a fond laugh whenever Renjun does something.

“See?” Ten says, showing him how to write something. Renjun pays attention, while still wiggling about, and once Ten’s done, he immediately snatches the pencil. “My turn,” he announces, and Kun suppresses his own laugh. Renjun presses the pencil hard into the paper, as he makes whatever it is, and when he’s finally done, sits up, brandishing it like a plaque of honour.

Even from his place near the door, he can tell it’s completely wrong. But Ten’s eyes merely crinkle in amusement, as he presses a small kiss to the boy’s forehead. “That’s one way, but not the way your teacher wants, baby,” he says, and Renjun starts to argue with him, explaining why exactly Ten’s method was wrong in the first place, and not his.

Kun leaves the two without a word.

*

“What brought you hear, so suddenly?” he says, munching around the food. His mother had shown up unannounced, and while it was a pleasant surprise, he hoped it was not coupled with bad news. Fortunately for him, it turned out she was only stopping by on the way to his aunt’s.

“Want to get rid of me so fast?” she says, cackling when Kun splutters to assure her. Renjun laughs too; even though Kun is 99.9% sure he didn’t pay attention to a single word. She pats his arm, moving her attention to Renjun again. The boy’s cheeks are already completely stuffed with food, and as his plates keeps getting loaded with more, Kun dreads the amount of leftovers he’ll have to clean up.

“I heard some friend of yours was getting married? Sicheng said you were planning to buy a suit?”

“Oh,” he says, swallowing before continuing, “yeah, my friend Taeyong. The wedding’s most likely in late December.”

“Hyuckie’s gonna’ have _two_ dads, now, Ma!’ Renjun squeaks, “ _two!_ ”

His mother looks at him in surprise, “he has kids?”

“Yeah, two boys. One’s around Jun’s age, the other’s turning twelve soon.” He says it nonchalantly, but he keeps his eyes on her to gauge her reaction. She’s deep in thought before smiling, a soft and small thing. “That’s wonderful,” she says, “you better have a good suit ready then, it’s going to be a really special day.”

He doesn’t know why, but her reply serves to send a sense of relief in his chest. “I will,” he says, and he’s suddenly struck by an idea, “Ma, how about you help—”

“—It’s going to be amazing!” Renjun cuts him off, suddenly interested in their conversation. “Hyuckie says he really, really likes Uncle Jaehyun! And-and Uncle Taeyong likes him too!” His mother reaches over to ruffle his hair, and the boy beams under the attention.

Kun notes to just asks her later, when she starts asking him about his school and friends. Renjun gets off track a lot, too excited to be finally talking to his grandmother to keep himself grounded, and it endears both of them to no end. It’s only when he talks about the wedding, does Kun wish he could put a mute button on his son sometimes.

“I wanna’ see Papa’s wedding too,” he pouts, “when will Papa have one?”

His mother snickers at his defeated expression. “He’s been asking me that non-stop the past few days,” he tells her, “even though I give him the same answer every time. I’m not getting married, Jun, so I’m not going to have a wedding.”

“But why?” he laments, slumping over the table, voice muffled. “It’s so fun!”

“Your Papa got married a long time ago,” his mother says, “now he’s old and nobody will want to marry him.”

“Ten might!”

Kun spits out his food and starts to choke, his mom cackling as she thumps his back and gives him some water. He drinks it, glad to be able to breathe again. Before he can scold Renjun, his mother speaks up.

“Ten? You mean your babysitter?”

“No, he’s one of my best friends. After Hyuckie and Jeno, it’s Ten!” Renjun looks so incredibly proud himself even though Kun wants him to just shut up. His face is already turning scarlet.

“Why would Ten marry your Papa, Junnie?” His mother asks, and _oh no, oh no, no, no._

“Because I like him! And he really likes me! And Papa really, _really_ likes him.”

Kun regrets ever being born, as his mom sneaks a very dangerous smile at him. “Is that so?” she asks. Before Renjun can start speaking again, Kun cuts him off. “He’s just a kid, Ma, he’s saying anything.”

“No, I’m not,” Renjun says, petulant, “Papa’s always like—like _this_ ,” he props his face in his hands, and sports what is seemingly a dreamy or dopey smile, “when Ten comes. And Hyuckie said that Mark hyung said only people who like each other do that. So—so Uncle Taeyong did it to Uncle Jaehyun and now Papa will do it to Ten, and they’ll get married!”

Renjun claps excitedly, and Kun hides his face in his hands. He feels so utterly… _exposed_ , and it doesn’t help that his mother won’t stop laughing and playing along. It’s a long, _long_ night, and he has to almost force Renjun to go to bed so he stops speaking about Ten.

Maybe Doyoung _was_ right. Maybe Donghyuck really was a bad influence. He shakes his head. What was he thinking? He internally berates himself before going back to the living room, where his mother was waiting. He had convinced her to let him drop her at the train station, but now…he was truly scared of what was to come.

She didn’t say anything when they were getting ready, which made him feel even more nervous. Was she disappointed? Was she angry, that he had let himself be distracted? With his son’s babysitter of all people? That he would be ruining Renjun’s childhood? Or maybe she had taken it as a joke, and Kun was worried over nothing.

“So,” she starts, when they finally get on the road, “Ten?”

He internally groans. He tries giving her his most reassuring smile, “It’s nothing,” he says, eyes fixated on the road, “he’s more like a friend, really. Renjun just-he just really likes him.”

“It sounds like you really like him too, Kun-ah,” his mom says, and her voice turns soft, dropping the teasing tone, “I wouldn’t mind, you know? You two deserve love, it would be nice if—if you could find someone.”

“Ma…”

She puts her hands up, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. He sounds like a good man, from what Junnie said, and if _you_ could trust him for so long then it means he must have something good, right? If you were to—you know—then I would be more than happy for you.”

Kun doesn’t say anything back. She sighs, eventually dropping the subject. When they reach the station, he helps her with her bag, taking it till the platform. He had initially planned on waiting with her till her train came, but she presses him to go ahead, for Renjun was alone.

Just when he’s about to leave, Kun stops himself. He turns back, rubbing his hands together. “He is,” he says, and his mother gives him a puzzled look, “I mean Ten, he…he really is. A good guy, that is. Just-I can’t, not right now.”

“Then when?” she asks and it throws Kun off.

“W-what?”

His mother sighs. “If not now, then when? In one year, in two? Time doesn’t wait, Kun-ah, you know this very well. I…It is your life, in the end, and your choice, but…I don’t know, I just-I just want the best for you.” She cradles his face, looking at him with so much love. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed her, her voice, and her calming presence, until tonight. He really should go home more often.

“I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to his temple, like all the times she did when he was younger, when he was lost, when he needed someone to help him up, “and I will always love you, remember that, hmm? I am here, just a call away, if you ever need anything.”

“I love you too,” he tells her, hugging her. She still used the same old perfume, and it calmed him down, “and the same goes from me. Anytime, anything.”

When he comes back home, Kun doesn’t tussle and turn in his bed. He doesn’t stare at the ceiling, in hopes that sleep will eventually somehow come. Instead, he passes out almost immediately, the words and touch of his mother like a warm blanket of love, chasing away all other thoughts and stress.

*

“Oh no,” he hears Jungwoo exclaim, “there might be either rain in the city too, they’ve already started blocking some roads in the outskirts.”

Kun sits up a little straighter, adjusting his glasses to get a good look at the weather forecast. That wasn’t good, he was planning to go early today, for Ten needed to attend his workshop later in the evening. He had texted Kun about it the night before, and even reminded him just in case in the morning.

“Do you think they’ll let me off now?” he asks, but already knows the answer before Jungwoo can even look at him.

“Maybe if you finish up with the project file? Then you can just finish the rest from home or tomorrow,” Jungwoo tries suggesting. Kun sighs, pulling it out. He was halfway through, but it would take at least another hour for him to make the final reports and calculations. Whatever it maybe, it was his only hope if he wanted to return before the weather turned worse.

He’s half an hour or so into it, that he hears a few squeals and shrieks from the hallway. Kun looks up, seeing a few of the interns running down the hallway, and get a _really_ bad feeling. When he gets up and walks towards the window, his suspicions are confirmed.

It’s raining _,_ that too _hard._ It wasn’t much of surprise, considering it usually rained for a few days in winters where they lived, but it still managed to make his worries grow. Kun went back to his computer, saving up whatever he’d done so far, before getting on to the rest as soon as possible. Chances were they wouldn’t close up the roads this early, not until there was considerable danger.

Just as he’s working, his phone rings. Ten’s name flashes on the screen, and oh _god,_ what time was it? Kun checks, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees there was still an hour until Ten had to leave. He picks up, feeling a little apologetic. “Hey—”

“ _Renjun’s burning up_ ,” Ten says, out of breath, “ _I’ve given him his meds and made him eat. He’s sleeping, but I-I don’t know what else to do.”_

 _Calm down,_ he told himself, before repeating the same to Ten. “It’s winter, so it’s pretty common. Have you put a wet towel on his head,” Ten tells him he was going to, and it makes him relax a little. Renjun was in safe hands, he reminds himself. “Alright, I’ll see how fast I can come back. Just stay near him, okay? He gets really distressed when he’s sick.”

 _“Alright, okay,”_ Ten says, voice shaky, “ _sorry, I panicked. I just—he was crying and I got really worried and-I was scared I would do something_ wrong _so I called you—“_

 _“_ Hey,” he interrupts him, “hey, Ten, its _fine_. You’re doing well; you’re doing more than fine. It’s scary, I know, but you have to be calm if you’re with him, okay? Kids pick up on their surroundings, especially when they’re sick or hurt. Did you eat yet?” When Ten mumbles a no, Kun chuckles, “alright, while he’s sleeping, eat and drink some water. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“ _Okay,”_ Ten says, a pause, then: “ _be safe, it’s raining a lot.”_

“I will,” Kun tells him, before finally hanging up.

*

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kun slams his head against the steering wheel. Turns out they blocked a good number of roads, but thankfully a few that lead to his house were still open. This also meant that everyone else using the same route would accumulate in the same place. This _also,_ also meant that Kun had been sitting in his car, for over an hour now, moving by an inch every few seconds.

His boss had let him off when he’d told him his son was sick, but even with that head start he was still running late. Ten had called him a few times too, updating on Renjun’s condition, getting a little calmer each time. With his battery teetering on five percent, though, he prays for some type of miracle.

He messages Ten just in case, telling him to go ahead to his studio even if he ended up late.

*

He makes it home, albeit three hours late, but he _makes_ it. Kun throws off his shoes and tosses his bag somewhere, hurrying to Renjun’s room. The house is dark, the rain uninterrupted as it continues to shower the world outside. Kun throws open the door-

-and finds it completely empty.

Panic immediately surges through him, and he nearly trips as he stumbles to his own room, in case Renjun may have gone there, perhaps in wait for him or because he missed him. When he opens the door, his son’s laying in the middle, surrounded by pillows and a towel on his forehead, breathing even.

And next to him, is Ten, fast asleep, one arm under his head, the other on Renjun’s abdomen, as though he had fallen asleep while patting him. Relief had never felt sweeter, as he trudges to the bed, careful not to make sound. He sits on the other side, pressing his hand to Renjun’s cheek. He definitely still has a fever, but it seems to have gone down a little, at least from what Ten had told him.

 _Ten._ He wants to laugh, wants to shake him awake and ask him what he was still doing here, why he had stayed, why he hadn’t left when Renjun would’ve been asleep anyway, the medicine making him drowsy enough to stay for a few hours. Instead, Kun reaches over, pushing away Ten’s hair as it falls on to his face. Instead, Kun rubs a thumb across his cheek, his skin soft to the touch. Instead, Kun can only look at him, can only look at the two of them, and realise how bad he _wants_ this.

Instead, Kun pulls a blanket over both of them, pulling off Ten’s socks and throwing them on the floor, pushing his legs on to the bed from where they were dangling at the side. Kun leans in and gives Renjun a kiss on the cheek, and he can’t help but let his gaze linger on Ten, until he finally stands up, heading to wash himself up.

(Later, when he switches his phone on after charging it, he checks their chat.

 **Ten(** **ﾉ** **≧∀≦)** **ﾉ**

_are you in traffic??_

_kun im not leaving him all alone when he’s sick_

_i can go to the studio another time_

_just hurry home and stay safe_

_Home._ Kun thinks of the word, and falls asleep on the couch.)

*

“Okay,” Sicheng says, throwing his bag on the couch, “we need to talk.”

Kun ignores him, in favour of heading to the kitchen to make some coffee for himself. He was tired as it was, and having what seemed to be a serious conversation was far from the list of things he wanted to do now.

“Kun,” the other follows him, “you can’t just pretend nothing’s wrong.”

“Yes I can,” he retorts, turning the machine on. A few minutes, and he could finally get something to wake his mind up fully. “Watch me.”

He could hear Sicheng sigh. “I don’t get it,” he starts, when it’s clear Kun won’t say anything further, “maybe to some extent, sure. You’re scared, you have a shit ton of responsibility. But it’s just so clear to me and everyone else that you like him.”

Kun tightens his hand around the handle. _One more minute._

“Not to mention how good he is with Jun? I’ve been his friend for a long time, Kun, and I’ve never seen him get this attached to another kid so fast. And he’s clearly showed you that he lik—“

The machine beeps, and he pulls the jar out, maybe more aggressive than necessary. “Stop,” he grits out, “it’s none of your business anyway.”

The moment he says the words, he regrets them immediately. When he turns to look at Sicheng, he can see the flash of hurt in the other’s eyes, but Sicheng maintains a stoic face. “I’m sorry-“

“No,” Sicheng interrupts him, “no, _I’m_ sorry, Kun. I’m sorry I tried meddling in _your_ business. But you see, Ten’s _my_ friend too. If you’re going to keep pulling this shit, then the least you owe him is an explanation. He’s not a fucking asshole like you, he’s not just gonna’ suddenly cut off all contact once you confess you’re a coward.”

“ _Sicheng,”_ Kun breathes out. “You know why I need to do this.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Sicheng tells him, and his face crumples, “I don’t get it, Kun. I don’t get why you keep sabotaging your own chances of happiness, Kun. You did the same with Yiyang, and look how well that turned out-“

“This is _different_ ,” and he slams the jar down, the coffee splashing on to his hand. He hisses, the liquid stinging. Sicheng curses, coming next to him to shove his hand under the cold tap water. After a few minutes, Sicheng goes to get the first-aid kit, waving him off when Kun tries doing it himself.

“You’re impossible,” Sicheng mumbles. “I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on being so—so _oblivious_ , to what you’re doing.” He applies the cream, bandaging his arm. It still stings, but he’s gotten enough burns from cooking to know it isn’t that serious.

They’re both quiet, the silence starting to suffocate him. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs eventually. Sicheng sighs, pushing the box away. Kun watches, as he seems to get his thoughts together.

“I just want you to be happy,” Sicheng whispers, his voice so utterly defeated, “that’s all, you know. It would be different, if you genuinely didn’t want anything to do with it, but…you’re _hurting_ Kun, and that’s so much more painful to see. I…” he trails off.

“I just-with Yiyang, I didn’t say anything back then, and I regretted it so much, even though she turned out to be a jerk,” that makes them both chuckle, albeit a little strained, “but I didn’t want to-I didn’t want to do the same now. I’ve…told you what I think, Kun, and now…it’s for you to decide.”

“Sicheng…”

The other gives him a sad smile. “Don’t. _Think_ about it first, and we can talk more then,” he sits up straighter, “for now, I’ll brew us some coffee, since you managed to mess even _that_ up.”

*

Kun thinks. A lot.

He thinks all throughout work, thinks at home, thinks when he assigns a few new small chores to Renjun during the weekend. He thinks as he peeks in to see the boy putting his toys back in their box, giving him a compliment and ruffling his hair when he’s done.

“So I tried what you told me to do,” he tells Taeyong, calling the other when he had started getting too anxious from his own thoughts, “and he cleaned it up. Should I give him a treat or something too?”

“ _Maybe occasionally, for bigger things, but not too much or he’ll get spoilt or overdo it. I made the mistake with Mark at first and he’d cry if he didn’t get candy. Not a good thing,”_ Kun hums, internally noting it down. “ _Donghyuck cleans up pretty well too, but he’s easily distracted, so I’m trying to make it more like a game._ ”

“How are they, by the way? I heard Donghyuck’s really happy about Jaehyun.”

“ _Oh, definitely, he sticks to Jae like a leech. Mark adores him, but he gets shy with the affection. He did play with him when he was a kid though, so that definitely helped. And-“_ Taeyong breaks off. Kun can hear Donghyuck in the background, Taeyong’s laugh coming in a second later, “ _sorry about that. I’ll need to leave, Hyuck’s feeling sleepy.”_

Kun bids him a goodnight, endeared when Donghyuck shouts a ‘bye Uncle Kun’ just before Taeyong hangs up. He just sits there, for a few seconds, in the silence of his living room. He hadn’t drawn the curtains yet, the street below on full display for him to gawk at. He did it a lot when he first moved in, always feeling a little lost with nothing to do.

He gets up, deciding to call it a night. Kun thinks of taking a few sips of wine, just to make him drowsy enough to put him to sleep, when his phone rings again. He expects it to be Taeyong, which is why he’s surprised when the caller ID reads Ten instead.

“Hey,” he answers, “everything good?”

“ _Umm,_ ” a voice that definitely does _not_ belong to Ten starts, “ _you’re the last called person, so I dialled you._ ”

He feels his heart drop. “Is everything okay?” Kun rushes out, “is Ten fine? Wh-”

“ _Everything’s fine! The guy—Ten? that’s his name?—he’s really drunk. I need to close up the restaurant, but he can barely walk, let alone tell me his address. Can you pick him up?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah sure,” he says, noting down the address, “thank you so much.”

He checks on Renjun to makes sure he’s fully asleep one last time, before finally layering up and leaving.

And Kun’s maybe _just_ a little too freaked out.

He’s on the verge of teasing the speed limit the entire time. He takes whatever shortcuts he can, until he reaches the location. The area’s dark, with a raging sea nearby. Most of the places had already long closed up, and Kun haphazardly parks his car, stumbling out. The temperature was freezing, the winds biting his skin, and he really hoped Ten had layered up enough.

True to the man’s word, there was a bench outside the restaurant. The problem? Ten wasn’t.

He calls him, one, twice, to no avail. Just as he goes to disconnect his third one and just search around instead, he picks up. “Hey,” Kun starts, “I’m here—“

“ _Kun?”_

“Ten, hey. Where-where are you right now?”

“ _What’s it to you?”_

The question stops him in his tracks. He tries for a small smile, uncaring the other couldn’t see him, as he feels the words sting. “What-what do you mean, Ten? Of course it’s a lot to me.”

“ _Liar,”_ Ten whispers, “ _You-you act all nice and sweet and then just. And then just treat me like-like_ trash _.”_

“I’m sorry,” he says, taking in a deep breath, “we can talk about this more later. But first, I need to find you, alright? Can you tell me where you are?”

“ _Nowhere,”_ Ten says, and Kun starts to jog around, trying to spot him through the line of tents and cabins. “ _I’m just-I’m at nowhere.”_ Kun strains his ear, and hopes the other doesn’t hang up on him. “Are you near the water?” he asks, even as Ten goes silent.

He hears the sound of the waves, but its oddly distant. “Ten,” he asks again, getting desperate, “Ten, please, where are you?”

“ _M’cold,”_ Ten mumbles, and Kun wants to rip his hair out. He’s trying not to panic. Ten had always gotten cold so easily. He keeps asking any questions that come to mind, a high place or low, away from where he ate or nearby, just _anything._ But Ten’s replies keep getting shorter and shorter, and Kun has a very bad feeling that he’s starting to fall asleep or pass out again.

“Ten,” he pleads, “Ten, baby, where are you? Please, just-tell me, okay? We can figure everything out later, together, alright? It’s really cold out, we need to get you home.”

It’s silent for a few seconds, until the other’s voice comes through again. “ _Fairy lights”_ he whispers, “ _there’s so many lights here, Kun._ ” When he asks him what he’s talking about, the other just shushes him. Kun looks around, frantic, until he catches sight of something.

Just a little ways away, stood a small platform that extended into the water. A few fairy lights strung around, and Kun cursed himself when he saw the signboard. _Nowhere,_ of course the damn thing was named that.

He ran, his heart beating against his chest, sand slipping into his shoes as he finally climbed up the stairs. The sound of the waves sounded both near and far, and when he finally reached the last step, he let out a sigh of relief. Ten was slumped against a bench; his head tilted all the way back as he looked at the sky.

“Ten,” he says, “look to your side.”

He watches, as Ten pouts in confusion, before turning and facing him. His eyes widen in disbelief, hand still holding the phone to his ear, as Kun walks closer, finally hanging up. Ten stands up, albeit unsteady, still looking confused.

“Kun,” he starts, “you’re her-“

His words get cut off, as Kun throws his arms around him, trapping him into a hug. Kun clutches on to Ten, arms wounded tightly around the other’s frame. His heart is thundering under his ribcage, and Ten starts to loosen up, melting against him. “What were you thinking?” He asks, feeling the panic slowly subside, “you should’ve just stayed there. What if I couldn’t find you?”

“Someone would’ve,” Ten mumbles against his shoulder. He feels the other nuzzle into him. “People here are nice.” He just tightens his hold on the other, leaning his head against Ten’s. He hears Ten sigh against him, and mumble something he doesn’t manage to catch.

“What was that?”

“You’re warm,” Ten repeats. It’s only then does he realise Ten’s wearing just a jacket to protect him from the cold. “Here,” he says, pulling way as Ten protests, “wear this, it’s-it’s really cold.” Kun takes off his coat, draping it over Ten. His face is flushed, from both the cold and the alcohol in his system, and when he takes the other’s hands in his, it’s akin to touching ice.

“Let’s take you back, shall we?”

Kun ends up having to carry him on his back to get to the car, after Ten stumbles for the nth time in a row. Ten’s extremely giggly, but also very sleepy, so it’s an interesting combination to witness as he straps him into the car. He slumps against the seat, looking at Kun with a sweet smile, eyes full of fondness. Kun’s cheeks heat up, and he blames it on the cold, as he jogs towards the driver’s side, getting in and starting the car up.

The ride is filled with Ten’s observations about outside world as he looks through the glass, his head lolling to the side every now and then. Kun finds himself smiling more than once, when Ten peeks a glance at him to make sure Kun didn’t catch him jolting himself awake.

When they reach the building, Ten pushes him away when he tries to help him, instead only clinging on his arm for support. “I can walk!” he proclaims, face determined. Kun lets him be.

As much as it’s cute, it is also _hard_ , as it is only after two wrong apartments and multiple passcodes attempts that Ten can _finally_ get into his own home. Kun takes him inside, greeted immediately by the meows of his cats. It had been a while since he’d last seen them, after the two had stopped texting each other.

Ten flops on the bed, the black strands of his hair against the white pillows. Kun stretches, already feeling tired, as he throws off the other’s shoes and socks, and after much manoeuvring, his jacket. “There,” he says, as Ten finally gets out of it, sitting up. “Now, sleep,” he tells him, but the other just stares at him.

He looks younger like this, his hair all mussed up, his face flushed and gaze soft. Ten leans into him, resting his head against the crook of his neck, eyes closed. Kun feels warm all over, their proximity heightening his senses. “Ten,” he whispers, hand wrapping around the other’s arm, “you okay?”

It takes him a moment, until he finally hums, the sound vibrating against his skin. Ten shifts, and then leans back, his face still so close to Kun’s own. “Stay,” Ten says, and Kun can barely keep himself from leaning in, from pressing his lips against his skin. _He’s drunk,_ Kun reminds himself.

“Ten…” he starts, and the other closes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath in. When he looks at him again, there is just…so much _longing,_ in his eyes, and Kun feels his heart tug to be closer. Ten reaches to cup his face, sliding his hand against his cheek. It’s still cold, but Kun finds he doesn’t mind, leaning into the touch. His heart’s going haywire, and Ten is just _there_ , so welcoming, so open and _kind._

“Go,” Ten tells him, “Junnie—Renjun’s alone. Someone-someone should be with him.” Kun nods, but he doesn’t immediately stand up. Ten looks so _perfect_ , so utterly at home and relaxed, he wishes he could keep this image with him forever, wishes he could see this side of him forever. Kun wishes he could stay, wishes he didn’t have to worry his house was so far away, his son in one place, and his lov—

 _Get it together,_ he steels himself. Kun stands up, Ten’s hands falling away. He drags himself away, blocks the image of the other in his bed away, blocks the thoughts of Ten and the longing in his eyes away. When Kun finally gets out of the apartment, shutting the door close, he leans his back against it, squeezing his own eyes shut.

When Kun finally reaches home, he checks up on Renjun, to find the boy asleep. He goes to his own room, muscle memory prompting him to finish his night routine, to slip into his pyjamas, to get under his covers and ignore the racing of his heart.

(His dreams are filled with Ten. )

*

"Kun?" Jaehyun says, surprise colouring his features as he opens the door, "what's up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so....that was something.  
> there are certain parts i really liked about this, but others idk ;;-;; ive been working on this chapter for a couple of days straight now, and I hope you enjoyed it! I was busy catching up with my work so I couldn't completely focus either, but I decided to finish it up now that I've gotten some time. 
> 
> Thank you so much to all the lovely people who commented ;;-;; im really glad to read ya'll like my writing lmao dkhska anyways  
> I was listening to cheeze's little by little while writing the kunten parts especially, and i feel like the vibe of the song overall fits this chapter really well (except for obviously, the part where winkun fight) and idk i read the lyrics too and they suit the feelings too so it found that nice. 
> 
> thank you for reading!! as always leave a kudos/comment if you liked the chapter :D


	16. Chapter 16

Jaehyun’s surprise mirrors Kun’s own. He had come to Taeyong’s apartment for some insight on his… _predicament._ He wasn’t expecting for Jaehyun to be opening the door though, when the other had his own apartment not too far away.

“Come in,” Jaehyun says, and he feels a sting of guilt as he takes in his mussed hair and skewed shirt. Kun must’ve woken him up. He toes off his shoes, following the other inside to the living room. The coffee table is already stacked with books about event planning, décor, and wedding guides. And despite the current emotional train wreck he is, he can’t help but feel a swell of happiness, especially when he catches Jaehyun looking embarrassed at the mess.

“We were just discussing some stuff, Taeyong has more of an artistic eye anyway, so I told him to just decide what he wanted, but…he somehow roped me in too,” he rambles, ears tipped red as he clears the couch of planners and pens. Kun waves him off, sensing his nervousness.

“It’s alright, don’t worry,” he says, taking a seat, “Taeyong is…?”

“Asleep,” Jaehyun replies, sitting across him, “he had an overnight shoot yesterday so I stayed over with the kids. If you want, I can go wake h—”

“-No!” he exclaims, “no, it’s fine, let him rest. I just-It’s not important don’t bother,” Kun rubs his neck. It’s quiet until Jaehyun speaks up again. “If you’re comfortable with it, maybe I could help? Totally fine if you wanna’ say no though.”

“I…” he starts, unsure. He’s starting to feel a little pathetic. Maybe he shouldn’t have come in the first place. What would Taeyong even do if he was awake? And he didn’t want to bother Jaehyun with such silly things either. But on the other hand, it’s not like he had any more options to consider.

Jaehyun waits patiently for him, and Kun finds himself relaxing a little by the other’s calm demeanour. The worst that could happen is the other might tell Taeyong—who he was going to come to _anyway—_ and he and Jaehyun weren’t even that close, so he didn’t need to worry too much about what he might think of him either. He takes a deep breath in.

“There’s—how do I go about this—there’s this… _issue,_ where I’m torn about what exactly I’m supposed to do,” Kun starts, “like, I’m scared of this one decision that i have to make—or _am_ making—and, I don’t know, how it’ll turn out. Whether it would be the right thing for me, or not. And whether the right thing for me, would be the right thing for _Renjun_ too. I don’t want to screw up, the boy’s gone through enough as it is and, I just—I wanna’ give him the best life possible, as much as I’m able to.”

Jaehyun hums, taking his time with the words. Kun rubs his hands together, nervousness at finally speaking about it bubbling up. “I’m sorry, that was such a mess—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jaehyun assures him, giving him a smile, “I was just thinking it over, is all.”

Kun nods, playing with his fingers again. Oddly, the silence that stretches then doesn’t seem to feel awkward or tense.

“Is this about you and Ten?”

That grabs his attention. “W-what…?” He asks in disbelief, “how do you…?”

“He’s choreographed for one of my dramas a long time ago, and now that he’s Mark’s teacher too, I’ve kinda reconnected. Don’t worry,” Jaehyun says, “ _he_ hasn’t said anything. Taeyong’s the one who mentioned it to me, you were having ‘love problems’ or something. And with how Ten’s been acting lately, yeah…it’s not really _that_ hard to guess.”

Kun hides his face in his hands, mortified. Taeyong couldn’t stomach anything, could he? Should he be relieved he doesn’t need to explain more, or should he be horrified that Jaehyun of all people knows?

Jaehyun suddenly leans towards his side, grabbing a glass and filling it up with water. He offers it to Kun, who accepts it with thanks, immediately downing all of it. He hadn’t realised how dry his throat had become.

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” Jaehyun chuckles. Kun whines, the solid feel of the glass in his hands keeping him grounded.

“If I could tell you something, it would be to take your own advice,” he starts, “just like you told Yong, you can’t live in fear forever, of what can and can’t happen. The truth is, none of us _know_ , until we try, and I guess that makes stuff like this all the more scarier, when you have more than just you to look out for.”

Jaehyun looks out the windows, the entire city visible from where they sit on the couch. It’s a beautiful view, but it seems like the other is lost somewhere else entirely. “It’s…It’s what got between us, you know? I’d just started my acting career, and Taeyong was too worried he and Mark would get in my way, and while he did eventually come around, when Donghyuck came along, he pulled back almost immediately.”

He turns his head, a faraway look in his eyes as he regards Kun, giving him a sad smile. “I mean sure, we’re both… _more_ mature and responsible than we were back then, so maybe it was for the better but… But-I don’t know, maybe back then, I’d love to get a chance to be with them, you know? With Hyuck and for his early years. I wasn’t there for Mark’s, and…it’s honestly kinda’ regretful I couldn’t be for Hyuck’s either. Just knowing there was even a silver of possibility back then…it sucks, but I’ve gotten over it.”

Kun listens carefully, and he feels his heart go out for the other. It was easy for anyone to see, how much he utterly loved the three, it bled so easily through every little gaze, every touch. The kids loved him back just as much, from what he could tell. It feels oddly personal, for him to be hearing all of this. Jaehyun wasn’t one to spill about himself.

“Why are you telling me all this, Jaehyun?”

The other doesn’t respond, and just when Kun thinks he might’ve not heard him at all, too deep in thought, he speaks up again. “When Taeyong said yes, it felt like everything had somehow worked out, had fallen in place. I…now that he’s given me the chance again, there’s nothing more I want in my world, to just have them happy and healthy by my side.”

Jaehyun looks at him, and Kun feels as though he’s made of glass; _transparent_. “I’m sorry, if I made you comfortable with all that, but…I just-I want to tell you, that maybe give him a chance to come to his own decision, instead of deciding it all on your own. Relationships aren’t based on one person alone, Kun, and maybe…it’s time you see what Ten’s been trying to tell you for so long.”

*

“A Christmas party?”

“Just a small one,” Jungwoo says, going through a new package he ordered. “It’s the kids’ last month with us, and by January their exams are going to start, so it would be like a small farewell thing.”

Now that he mentions it, Kun does think the idea sounds good. The interns only came a few times a week now, with some having research papers due and scrambling to make everything work on time. It would be a good way to help them de-stress a little too.

“Also,” Kun says, just as Jungwoo moves to take the box away, “any updates on…you know?”

The other doesn’t answer immediately, pausing in his movements. Kun starts to regret asking, until he notices a small blush climb the other’s neck. “Oh my god,” he says, “oh my god, are you two da-“

“Not yet!” Jungwoo huffs, “not-not yet, I’m positively _considering_ it, but not yet.”

Kun calls after him, calling him out on his lame excuse. He pesters him throughout the day, poking him each time Yukhei passed by. It was so utterly endearing, seeing the ever so confident Kin Jungwoo get _shy_. He felt like a dad (even though technically he _was_ a dad) watching his child go and explore the world beyond their tiny little office.

“Shut up,” Jungwoo hisses, when they pack up to leave, “if you’re going to come, tell one of the kids, _and leave me alone._ ”

Kun laughs, even as Jungwoo shuts the elevator close before he can get in.

*

“Don’t buy him everything he wants,” Kun warns, “he just got better. He’ll end up getting an upset stomach.”

Sicheng nods, giving him a salute, as Renjun pouts at his words and shrinks in his seat at the back. He bids them a goodbye, watching as the car leaves. He’d come to a rash decision to buy the everybody gifts too, one way of expressing his gratitude to the others who’d helped him so much in such a short amount of time. 

Taeyong’s was pretty easy to pick out. A perfume he had his eyes on for a good while now, and Kun had called dibs on buying it before Doyoung could. Doyoung was a little harder, but he eventually settled on a warm sweater, and after much agonising, he finally got some things for Sejeong and Jaehyun too. While he was it, Kun decided to fuck it, and bought a few things for some of the interns and colleagues too. It was a difficult year, yet they had all managed to get through it together, and maybe he was still a bit high from the rush of getting a bonus _and_ a promotion.

Just as he’s walking towards the exit, he pauses, coming to a stop altogether in front of an all too familiar place he’d been eying for a while.

 _It’s time you see what Ten’s been trying to tell you for so long._ Jaehyun’s words echo is his head, have been since he met him. It’s all that he could think about, could ponder on, to reflect on everything that happened in the span of a year.

So Kun takes a deep breath in, gathers his courage, and steps inside.

*

Kun doesn’t know if he’s made the right decision, as the velvet box sits in the corner of his closet, hidden and away from all eyes. He’s never been this impulsive before, but a small part of him assures him, that this was a good choice.

Facing Ten, however, is whole another ordeal. It’s a bit awkward, as the memories of their encounter still cloud both their minds, but having Renjun around does make it a little easier to navigate around. The boy’s extremely excited, with all the new movies and shows on television; eager to try and bake something on his own.

It’s a…not _exactly_ a disaster—no, Kun wasn’t _that_ harsh—but the cookies do turn out tasting…somewhat _interesting_. But he still slaps a smile on his face, when Renjun _and_ Ten looks at him eagerly for approval. He can tell Ten’s not entirely convinced, but at least the smile he breaks into is genuine. For the next batch though, he intervenes. He was _not_ letting his ingredients go to waste.

Once they set the timer, he has to leave, an emergency at the office needing his attention. He pepper kisses on Renjun’s face when the boy’s face falls, turning him into a giggly mess, even if he’s still a little upset. Kun hurries, throwing on a jacket and a coat, and just as he’s about to leave, Ten calls his name.

“Yeah?” he asks, as the other comes up to him. Ten’s gaze drifts between here and there, but he doesn’t say anything, instead clicking his tongue. “It’s like, minus something degrees out,” and shoves a scarf and a hat in his arms, not once looking at Kun directly, “you’ll get sick.”

Before Kun can thank him, he immediately goes back to the living room.

(And maybe, Kun finds himself thinking of the other more than once. And _maybe,_ Jungwoo has to tap him a couple a times, before he can get his head back into the task at hand.)

*

“What’s that, sweetie?”

Renjun hummed, his tongue poking his cheek as he drew with utmost concentration. Kun had been a little busy, asking his mom about what places he should visit for a suit, and finally planning an appointment together with Doyoung. When he’d come back, Renjun was in his room, surrounded by all sorts of colourful papers and wrappers.

Kun leans in, trying to get a closer look. It seems Renjun finally acknowledges his existence, foe he gasps, before shoving everything off his desk to the floor.

“You can’t see!” He scolds him, “this is a _surprise_ , Papa!”

Kun raises his hands in surrender, trying to keep his laughter down. He had never seen the boy get so serious for something. After giving him a plate of fruits and a glass of juice, Kun leaves him alone, his curiosity running wild with what he could’ve been making. Definitely some sort of card, so was it a gift for him or someone else? The thought fills him with warmth, as he goes to his room for some downtime.

Now that he had finished most of the year end projects, he had a lot more free time than before. Kun relaxes into his pillows, sighing at the softness. Kun turns a little here and there, until he’s finally comfortable, looking off to the side.

It felt a little too big at times; his bed, for just one person. He runs his hands across the soft sheets, cool from the lowering temperatures. His mind drifts back to Ten, sleeping soundly with Renjun, his face peaceful. He wonders what it would be like, to be next to him, to just stay, to wake up and see the other, just right there, across him. He squeezes his eyes in annoyance. _Don’t get too ahead of yourself_.

He still had to fix things between them, for he had been extremely unfair to Ten, taking away any say he could’ve had in the matter. Kun’s been thinking a lot with all his free time, and the more he realizes, the more he understands, and the more he _sees_.

Kun just hopes the other will forgive him, that is, if _he_ could gather the courage in the first place.

*

“This one looks better,” Doyoung says, pressing it against him, “throw the suits to the side, I think the tux is much better, just wear that bowtie, and boom, there you have it.”

Kun grabs the tuxedo from his hands, going to try it on. This was much more time-consuming than he’s actually remembered. When he’d gotten married, his mother just fussed over him as his dad gave little to no feedback, and all of it had been an absolute blur. Now with them having to do everything on their own, it feels all the more exhausting.

“Oh,” the consultant says, when he finally steps out, “yes, this—just a little bit tighter on the sides and maybe a different bowtie—but yes, _this_ , most definitely looks better.”

He feels himself blush a little, when even Doyoung compliments him. Okay, so it wasn’t _all_ that bad. He waits for Doyoung too, as the man seems to have a clear picture in his head on what he wants to wear. Eventually, he decides on a black and grey suit, planning to pair it up with a black turtleneck.

“We’ll have to come again, when Taeyong sets his appointment,” Doyoung tells him as they proceed to the fittings, “I don’t understand why. It’s not like he has to pick out a wedding dress, isn’t a suit so much more easier?” Kun shrugs.

“He’s the model out of the three of us,” he reminds him, “I’m pretty sure he’s not settling on a simple suit.”

*

“Of course not,” Taeyong says, appalled, “one of the designers I’ve worked with before is helping me out.”

Kun gives Doyoung a look. _I told you so_ , he wants to say, as Doyoung rolls his eyes. They both watch as Taeyong pours them both more juice than necessary, on the verge of spilling over. He’s a little frenzied in general, now that the venue has been set and everything else is following one by one.

“Sejeong knows this one place, they’ve done catering for weddings pretty often, so they have the experience,” Doyoung rattles off, as Kun reads through yet another catalogue, “I could ask her to get some more info if you want.”

Taeyong places the baking tray in the oven, albeit with a little more force than necessary as a clang echoes immediately. He doesn’t seem to be fazed. “Sure,” Taeyong replies, wiping his hands across his apron, “just text me the details. I’ll see when I can fit in some more time. Mark’s recital is coming up, and then Donghyuck’s taekwondo classes are starting soon too.”

Kun takes a cookie from a pile next to him, munching on it as he taps the seat next to him. “First of all,” he starts, when the other finally complies after a glare from Doyoung, “you need to _calm_ down.” He offers him another cookie, “here, taste your creation.”

Taeyong takes it, munching through the entire thing in no time. He’s oozing anxiety from every pore, as he tries taking another catalogue and shuffling through a little frazzled. It goes on for a few minutes, until Doyoung sighs, pushing away his laptop. “ _Taeyong,_ ” he starts, “what’s wrong?”

After a moment of silence, Taeyong groans, rubbing a hand across his face. “This planning thing is so _hard_ ,” and he slumps onto the counter, “and Jaehyun has like, _no taste._ ”

“So just pick what you like.”

“I _am_ , but I don’t want it to be just all me, you know? This is _our_ wedding. Plus, he’s gotten an offer for a movie too now, so I just feel bad even asking.”

“Just talk to him about it,” and Taeyong makes another noise of dissatisfaction at Kun’s suggestion. “That’s literally the solution to every problem, just _talk._ ”

“Says _you_ ,” Taeyong mumbles, and Doyoung snorts. Kun tries not to pay them mind. It was different for him, alright? He huffed, turning the page. “How about this one?” he points to the red colour scheme, “feels like it would suit you two.”

Taeyong gives him a look, as if to say he very well knew that Kun was changing topics, but doesn’t say anything further. He glances over, contemplating. Both him and Doyoung pay close attention, for Taeyong seemed to be genuinely considering it. He moves the catalogue towards himself, looking through.

“It’s…” he starts, and they both lean in closer, “…pretty good, actually. I mean, we could definitely get a few gold accents in there along with the white, but…this looks really nice.” Taeyong hums to himself, as he flips through. “I’ll bring it up to Jae, this might work.”

“Thank _goodness,_ ” Doyoung sighs, “now that we’re done, can we _please_ drink something other than juice?”

“Just say you want a drink,” Taeyong tsks, getting up to get them a few cans. Kun watches them both bicker over it some more, and the realisation of what’s to come in a few weeks hits him. Despite the anxiety that shrouded him, it seemed as though an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. When he catches Doyoung’s eyes, it seems the other’s thinking the same, the fond look barely hidden despite his snide remarks.

“I wasn’t joking, you know,” Taeyong tells him, hugging him goodbye, “take your own advice, Kun.”

He really should, shouldn’t he?

*

December inches, with its barren wooden branches, and Kun thinks this might just be his favourite time of the year.

He hated the cold. Kun had always tended to get cold easily, and it always came as an extra nuisance on top of everything else to layer up before he could step a foot into the outside world.

“Papa!” Renjun screams, “can we go? Please!”

Renjun’s eyes are wide with delight, with awe and excitement. The streets were lined with lights and decorations, there were carols being blasted from speakers all about. The city square had decided to host a tree of their own this year, tall and mighty, glittering with all that it was wrapped in.

“I know how to skate,” Ten tells him, a little too eager for him to be only asking for Renjun, “I’ll hold his hand super tightly, I promise.”

It’s a small thing, the ice rink, a new addition for the end of the year. Laughter echoed from both within and beyond it, people falling over and getting up, people just _being_ , existing and sharing little memories together.

“Alright,” he relents, “but don’t get hurt—slow _down!”_

Kun can only watch, his face breaking out into a smile, as they both run off to get their skates on. He can only watch, as they both can’t stop giggling, true to Ten’s word holding onto each other tightly. Kun can only watch, as he feels a piece click into place, a piece he had never known had a place in the first place, as he clicks picture after picture of the two.

Kun feels like he’s found something, after all these years, to keep him warm through the cold.

*

“What’re you doing on Christmas eve?”

They’re in the kitchen, Ten brewing some of his green tea, as Kun heats up hot chocolate for him and Renjun. He knows the question is sudden, but he doesn’t want to let the silence between them stretch for any longer, not when he was the one who had brought it in the first place.

Ten’s posture is somewhere between relaxed and on edge, a weird mix that’s been turning far too common in the past few days. He stills, after he places the kettle down, as though contemplating his question.

“Might go out with my roommate—Hendery, by the way—and then…I’m not sure, I can’t really visit Thailand this year, so no family gatherings.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“They’re going to Europe, there’s a wedding of some distant relative there or something. I can’t really afford to take that much time and money off right now.”

“And your studio?”

“They’re going home,” Ten says, and there’s tinge of sadness in the way he says it, “so uh, yeah. That’s about it. Just me and my cats.”

Kun looks at the other’s face, and he wishes he knew what exactly was going through the other’s head. Ten looks more down than usual, even though when he’d come back home he and Renjun were seemingly having fun.

“Do you…,” he gulps, “do you maybe want to come over? Just—no pressure or anything, but Renjun would love to have you there too. The only other person that _might_ come is my mom, so…”

“What about you?”

“What?” the question makes him pause; a little unexpected. Ten squeezes his eyes shut, before looking back at him, set with determination. “Y-you said, Jun would love to have me. What about you, Kun?”

“I…” he starts, “I…would like it too,” he finally settles on. “A-a lot, actually.”

Ten sighs. He circles a finger around the rim of his cup, still not looking at him. Kun feels guilt rain on him, one chunk at a time. “Ten,” he starts, taking a step closer, “Ten, I—I know I’ve been a real jerk the past few weeks—“

“-an understatement, truly—“

“—but please, _please_ , just, just give me this chance, to make up for it?” Kun hopes the other can sense the sincerity in his voice, can see it written on his face when he finally looks at him. Ten’s expression is indecipherable, and it’s so devoid of his usual warmth, fear truly starts to trickle in. “I—I’ve been dealing with some stuff, working it out on my own, and that’s—that’s no way to excuse just leaving you in the dark, but…but well, I did it anyway. And I’m sorry for that.”

Ten doesn’t reply immediately. Each passing second makes his stomach drop further and further, and Kun prepares himself for the impending rejection. Instead Ten looks away, focusing his attention on his hands.

“I thought it was me—I was too… _forward_ , or something,” Ten eventually says. “You just—I _kept_ thinking over and over of what I did wrong, that I overstepped some unspoken boundary that maybe I was…a bit _much_ , and…that was just _so_ damn shitty of you to do Kun.”

And it’s only now he realises, of the implications his actions may have had on the other. He tries putting himself in the other’s shoes, imagining what it must feel like. _Instead of deciding it all on your own_ , Jaehyun had warned him, and Kun had gone and done exactly that, taking away any say the other had in the situation.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and feels like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over again. It’s the only thing he can do, as Ten still doesn’t spare him a glance. “I—that was, that was selfish of me, to get you involved like that, to not give you any explanation. I want to make it up to you, and I—and I promise I will if you let me,” his voice is on the verge of pleading, his chest getting heavier, “but I understand, if you won’t. You have every right to.”

Kun waits. He waits, and lets Ten take his time, lets the other think it over. He doesn’t know how long they stand there, in his kitchen, the space feeling colder than it had in months.

“Okay,” Ten says, eventually, and Kun’s eyes widen in surprise, Ten heaves a sigh, before looking back at him. “I’ll uh, I’ll come over, that is. Okay, for _that_. The rest…I-I don’t know what you’re planning on doing, Kun, but it better be fan-fucking-tastic.” Ten takes his tea, downing it one go.

Kun’s still reeling from the fact Ten _agreed_ , that even though it was a small step—maybe one hardly at all for some—it was _something._ That little flutter of hope in his chest had not been diminished. Not yet.

“Thank you,” he rushes out, his face flushed from gratitude, “truly, I’ll—yeah, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, switching on the stove, “hurry up with that; Renjun’s not one to wait.”

And just as he leaves, Ten throws his used teabag in Kun’s mug.

Yeah, Kun deserved it.

And surely, just a minute after Ten returns to the living room, he can hear the familiar whine of Renjun’s voice, with Ten’s victorious ‘ _I told you so’_ following close behind.

_I can’t believe he agreed,_ and it runs around his head, somersaulting and crashing and just not letting him focus on anything else. Renjun has to nudge him to make sure he’s paying attention to whatever is going on in the movie more than once.

He trips on the way to the elevator; just so utterly distracted with the fact that the other _agreed_ , so utterly distracted by the way the distance between had somehow started to shorten, the frost Kun had created starting to melt. Ten bites his lip, not commenting as he enters the elevator.

He doesn’t say anything during the car ride either, and Kun’s mind is already whirring from all that he had to do, to make sure to make up for the absolute mess he’d created, a mixture of excitement and nervousness, as his stomach both crawled and fluttered with anticipation.

“Kun,” Ten interrupts, “Kun, you can—you can drop me, you know? This is the third time you’ve drove past my building.”

“Oh,” he jolts back to reality, backing the car until they’re in front of the other’s driveway. “Sorry, I uh, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I can tell,” and was that a _smile_? “Stop getting so ahead of yourself,” he says, pushing open the door before getting off. Under the streetlights, Ten looks a little foreign; someone out of a fairy tale, the way the lights glows around him. “Don’t crash,” he tells him, and Kun nods his head.

Ten looks at him a beat longer, before scoffing, “you’re so fucking dumb, goodness.”

Kun doesn’t deny it. Instead, he watches Ten enter his building, the butterflies in his stomach thrashing around. He’d gotten a chance; Kun messed up, and _still_ managed to get a chance. He wasn’t going to let this one go.

Maybe, for once, things might actually work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....im back :D 
> 
> theres a lot thats happened in the past week or so, ive been travelling and moving around too, and just going through some stuff so its been really hard trying to piece together a good chapter. i really hope this was okay, im honestly not sure myself, but ig in a way you could take this as a somewhat filler too? the main main stuff's coming in the next few chapters so im excited to write that :D but also nervous asf yes im a mess 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it!!
> 
> also wayviosion 2!!!! TEN'S HAIR???????? HE'S SO PRETTY??? AND KUN WITH THAT SILVER BKLONDE HAIR IM???? AND STILL NO KUNTEN SELFIE???? LOVE THAT FOR US. AND WAYV ROYALTY CONCEPT CB?????

**Author's Note:**

> *eyes my abandoned fics with no remorse* so thats the first chapter! We'll be meeting the "mystery" person in the next fic. I'm actually kind of nervous about this one, since I have no experience in writing about kids, so please bear with me! This initially was supposed to be one very long fanfic, but for the sake of my phone's memory I decided to make it into multiple chapters instead. Thanks for reading <3


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